Seven Days
by gabo0
Summary: M/M. AU-ish. Post-Hogwarts. "I hesitate. This seems to piss him off because he glares at me impatiently and I sigh deeply, sure that I can't keep beating around the bush. “I think Harry Potter likes me.”"
1. Day 1, Monday: Blaise's uncertainty

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (1/7)

**Author**: GaBo0

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue). Post-Hogwarts.

**Length:** 1,324 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

Thanks to the wonderful **Mara202** for beta-ing chapter this chapter and pointing out some serious mistakes I needed to correct. Since I've never written on present tense and first person, it turned out to be more difficult than I thought and I kept going from one tense to another.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By GaBo0_

**  
Day One, Monday: Blaise's uncertainty.**

"So, what is it?"

I can see how the blond in front of me tries to read my face but it seems as if it isn't working for him. I know I probably look a little out of thought, but who wouldn't be? I've had this feeling for quite some time now and I desperately need to share it with someone. Smart of me to make that _someone_ my ex-boyfriend.

Oh well, some things can't be helped. We've been working together for a couple of years and things are quite good between us now. Since we broke up some months before I started to work at the Ministry, all the awkwardness and resentment had finally dissolved by the time we got to see each other on the corridors. Right now, we're back at the stage we were at Hogwarts: best friends.

Which was the only explanation to why he'd let me drag him to this cheap bar in muggle London.

"Well…" I hesitate. This seems to piss him off because he glares at me impatiently and I sigh deeply, sure that I can't keep beating around the bush. "I think Harry Potter likes me."

There was a pause before he breaks down in hysterical laughter.

"Don't laugh, Draco!" I say aggravated. "I'm being serious."

"I'm sorry. You just sounded like a schoolgirl, lowering your eyes and playing with the tablecloth."

I punch him on the arm for his mocking tone, being more childish than I need to be and proving him right about how immature I am sometimes. Being collected and aloof is harder than usual when he is sitting in front of him. Draco Malfoy has a special talent for bringing out the worst in people.

"Look, I'm trying to tell you the Gryffindor likes me. Or has some kind of _thing_ for me," I glare once again when he seems about to have another fit of laughter, which apparently makes him decide its better not to make any more fun of the conversation. At least for a while.

When Draco realizes I'm not going to add anything else, he says "And you're telling me this, because…?"

"Because I want you to _observe_ him and tell me I'm not mad!"

He eyes me with disbelieve before a fit of uncontrollable laughter makes him shake on his seat again. I look uncomfortable around me, glaring at the curious eyes that were glancing at us with reprimand. After all, not only is he laughing like a maniac, but we also have our cloaks on, which is actually better than the robes underneath them but still weird on the muggle world. I finally get tired of it and stare angrily at Draco.

"Are you finished? Or you need to laugh some more?" I hiss with narrowed eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Please, Blaise, don't act all mad when you know you're not", he says dismissively while trying to catch his breath and I know he's right. I'm not mad at him. What upsets me the most is the fact that something stirs inside of me with the Gryffindor's recent special attention and not Draco laughing at my request. "So you want me to _spy_ on Potter?" he asks.

I weight his words. "No, not spy." I say, knowing that's the exact word for what I'm asking of him. "Just see if he's as caring and kind to everybody as he's with me. Don't start following him around or anything." At that, Draco pouts and the mischievous glint on his eye disappears for a moment.

"Then, what's the fun in it?" he murmurs upset. "What do _I_ get if I do it?" he asks then and that glint is back on his silvery eyes, grinning at me from the other side of the old table. I should've known better.

"You, my friend," I start with an undertone he knows too well, "will get my deep gratitude."

Draco laughs but accepts it, if not with a little disappointment. His eyes wander over my face for a second before turning to the waitress. I wrinkle my nose at her cheap attire and turn to the window, not really paying attention to what Draco is ordering for us. I barely recognize that they're only drinks, different from the ones we had on the -now empty- first glasses.

"And why do you think Potter likes you?" he asks, going back to the main subject as if we haven't stopped at all. I sigh and slump down a little on my stool, placing my chin over my right hand.

"Today," I start, "I was just getting to the office when we ran into each other at the Atrium and he offered to walk me, even when he works on level 2 and I on level 4. You know the Aurors usually enjoy _not_ having to go more levels than needed."

"You're overreacting. My office is on level 5 and_ I_ sometimes walk you to your office."

"You walk me _out_ of the elevator" I say crooking an eyebrow, at which Draco smiles and chuckles.

"Fair enough. Continue."

I sigh. "And this wasn't the first time. Whenever I go downstairs to get a biscuit and he's around, he'll just… stay there. Making small talk but sometimes getting _really_ into the conversation. He's also invited me to drinks a couple of times, but I always have something to do."

Draco's eyebrows arch upwards, but he stays silent waiting for me to continue, so I keep ranting on my own.

"I don't even know if he's gay" I blurt out before I realize I had mumbled the words and, if Draco hadn't been resting his arms on the table, he wouldn't have been able to hear me. This time, the laughter doesn't annoy me. It just makes me feel uncomfortably warm, as if I was blushing to the top of my ears.

"For _god_'s sake, Blaise..."

I glare at him but immediately go back to sulking mode. Of course, Draco won't understand. The only man he's ever been with is _me_ and I was blatantly gay by the time he asked me out, which is a nice way to say we started shagging and snogging in every possible corner. I can't very well go to Potter and tell him I like him because…

Well, do I really?

"Do you like him?"

So much for learning Occlumency.

"I… don't know" I respond defeated. Draco frowns and looks me up from his seat, angling his head and giving me _that_ look, so I could feel more pathetic than I already do. I growl and hide my face on my hands, mumbling something he doesn't understand.

"I'm not sure if I _like_ him," I snap at him when he tells me to speak up, "but I know I've been attracted to him since the war". When Draco makes a face, I add, "Not attracted like _that_. Just wanted to get close to him... as friends. He's a nice person."

Draco rolls his eyes, which is like saying he doesn't buy it at all, and rests his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"So you want to bugger Potter?"

My face flush fiercely, I can feel it, but I try to sound indignant, "Of course not! Haven't you heard a word I've said?"

"Yes. That you want to bugger Potter."

I huff upset and cross my arms tighter around me. Sometimes I don't know why I try so hard with Draco. He seems to not get me at all, which makes me wonder how we even ended up being friends on the first place.

"Alright."

I frown and look at him confused. He shrugs and lays back on his seat, a smile appearing on his handsome face.

"I'll do it. I'll _spy_ on your crush." I can't help but smile a little, ignoring my previous thoughts of the blond not getting me at all. "You only have to do one thing for me."

At the lascivious smile and the look he gives me, I smirk and kick him on the shin. He jolts up surprised and I start to laugh. "No need to get violent!" he protests, but I'm still laughing when he joins in with a quiet chuckle.

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Summary**: Blaise and Draco talk about Harry's possible infatuation.

**Frid****ay, January 16****th****, 2009**

**----------------------------------------------------**


	2. Day 2, Tuesday: Draco reconnaissance

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (2/7)

**Author**: GaBo0

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue). Post-Hogwarts.

**Length:** 4,978 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

Thanks to the wonderful **Mara202** for beta-ing chapter this chapter and pointing out some serious mistakes I needed to correct. Since I've never written on present tense and first person, it turned out to be more difficult than I thought and I kept going from one tense to another.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By GaBo0_

**Day Two, Tuesday: Draco's reconnaissance.**

At first, I couldn't believe Blaise would ask me to do such a stupid task. He could've performed a Tracking charm, for all I cared. I guess what really made me agree was the longing I saw on his eyes. I could tell he has feelings for the Gryffindor and, as much as I hate the idea, I can't deny him anything. At all. Which is too bad for me since I was the one who broke up with him some years ago. Stupid move, that was. But, a Malfoy never lives with regret –or, at least, I don't, so I try to be as close to Blaise as I can. And if he wants me to spy on his little Gryffindor crush to keep being his dearest friend, I will.

I'm so pitiful Grandfather would probably turn in his grave.

The green flames in front of me dissolve and I'm at the Atrium once again. This stupid transportation system always leaves dust on my robes, as much as I try to avoid it by using an Anti-Dust Charm. I'd rather use a Portkey all the time, but the long bureaucratic process makes me think twice about asking for one. Being a former Death Eater's son and having been somewhat on the Dark Lord's side, I doubt they will be thrilled to have me use a Portkey in and out of the Ministry whenever I need to.

I jump a little when my eyes set on the figure of Potter, lurking around the Atrium when it was clear he's getting late. I only need a couple of seconds to put two and two together before I realize he seems to be looking for something. Or better yet, _someone_. And if that someone isn't Blaise, then lightning could strike me down this instant.

My steps grow faster as I advance towards the other man to greet him casually. He greets me back with clear confusion on his face.

"Isn't it getting a little late?" I ask nonchalantly, looking at the huge clock nearby indifferently.

He nods but turns back to the chimneys for one more second.

"You're right," he finally acknowledges. "I better get to my office."

"Being the Head of the Auror Division must be tiring. Perhaps I can help you find what you're looking for?"

I guess he understands my sarcasm for what it is because he sends a nasty glare my way and gives me a curt nod of goodbye before stalking off to the lift. I grin to myself before I see some people from my department and head in their direction.

* * *

Later that day, I decide to take my lunch a little earlier than usual. I'd rather not take advantage of certain 'privileges' but I want to tell Blaise about this morning. I'm not sure my guess is right, but I'm almost positive Potter had been waiting for him and Blaise's reaction at this information is top priority right now. It's an odd feeling, playing matchmaker.

Before I can get up though, an owl comes through the door and gracefully lands on my desk. The letter is from Astoria, something I'm not expecting at all. That girl always surprises me. She told me she wouldn't be able to write for the time she'd be travelling with her sister. Apparently, she found the time, or she could also have told me that so I wouldn't be expecting any letter. Be it as may be, I love to hear from her and I only realize it when my stomach makes a little leap while my hands unfold the paper.

Scanning through it, I know there's nothing really important in it but I'm still fascinated with the events she narrates so throughfully in her carefully drawn calligraphy. In the end, her elegant signature curls over some of the last words. I find myself yearning for her to be home, but fight against the melancholy that creeps his way up my spine. She'd only been away for a couple of weeks!

Mad at myself for getting so attached to a person that was practically bestowed on me, I stride to Blaise's office. The Department of International Magical Cooperation was very dull compared to all the other ones since most people weren't usually at their offices but on the field or abroad, dealing with treaties and such. I believe I was the only one stuck there for most of the time, dealing with hideous paperwork about standards for trade.

_Unbelievable_. For the salary I get here, I could quit and live of the rents I get from the family business and properties. But this was mine, not my father's or my grandfather's, and as much as I hate being a Ministry_ employee_, I relish the feeling of ownership.

As soon as I get out of the lift, I find myself in a totally different world. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was _different_. There are three divisions, but the Beast Division is clearly the biggest one, since the other two rarely have any cases to look into –except for the Goblin Liason Office, the Being Division have very little trouble with House-Elves and Werewolves, since the first don't act voluntarily most of the times and the other ones prefer not to make their condition public.

I walk straight to the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau area of the place and search for Blaise's name on the tags at the doors. Funny thing, I never seem to remember which one is it and lately I've been thinking that the doors move around. As I advance through the corridor, my eyes try to focus on anything but the moving pictures of creatures on the wall, especially the one with a hippogriff on Blaise's door. It always gives me goosebumps and I always make a mental not of asking Blaise to remove it.

It'll never stop giving me the creeps.

"Draco?"

At Blaise's voice, a lopsided grin spreads on my face and I let my right side rest against the doorframe. Blaise is looking up at me from his paperwork and just then I realize he has company. A Weasley. Charlie, if I remember correctly. I nod in his direction before my eyes fall back on Blaise.

"Should I wait outside?" I ask motioning to the chairs on the corridor, knowing he'll ask me to come in. As I thought, Blaise smiles briefly and say they were almost finished, that I could stay. As if I didn't know! A Weasley won't make me wait outside. So I get inside the office and go behind Blaise's desk, leaning casually on the drawers and toying with a trinket I found there, distracting myself for the time they need.

That's when I start to feel uncomfortable. Weasley keeps sending conspiratory glances my way every two seconds, as if he knows a secret I don't. Blaise seems oblivious, of course, and keeps highlighting some things on a contract, bringing Weasley's eyes back to the paper every time they dart towards mine. By the time the other greets and leaves, I'm irritated. Extremely irritated.

"You went out early," he says, distracting me. "Are those the benefits of working virtually alone at a huge Department like yours?" asks Blaise with a tone he knows will irk me. This is good though; he's back to his normal self.

"Of course. Something you, Blaise dear, won't be able to appreciate in this _crowded_ place," I reply with perfect timing, since at that very second a head pops at Blaise's door and seconds later a tower of files and an urgent letter is in the middle of his desk. The messenger says something about messengers not wanting to deliver messages and leaves.

At Blaise's sigh, I ask, "What's that all about?"

"Oh, nothing. It seems the bloody birds are on strike or something." I laugh and he smiles weakly. I know he wasn't referring to any real birds, just those paper things that must not be working. "The people from Charms have been working on it, but I've got surprisingly a lot of complaints about it. It seems people can't differentiate between a real bird and a paper one anymore."

Since Blaise seems annoyed, as I had been with Weasley, I just put on my best smile and my hands go to his shoulders. The little moan that escapes his mouth is delightful, so I take it as an invitation and start to massage his shoulders and neck.

"Guess who was waiting for you today at the Atrium?" I ask in a sing-song voice.

He makes a startled move and seems to want to turn around, but I hold him securely in place and keep massaging his shoulders, if not a little more forcefully.

"Who?" ask Blaise in a whisper.

I teasingly get closer to his ear, inhaling his scent and whispering Potter's name. He trembles, but I can't tell if it's because of me or the implications of what I just said.

"So I'm not crazy?" he asks quietly, closing his eyes and leaning into my hands. I smile and tell him he isn't. Blaise growls under his breath.

"I shouldn't have asked you…" he starts but I lean again next to his ear and whisper that I was _fairly_ sure because he fled as soon as he saw me, that Potter might have thought he'd be too obvious and that he was probably mad because his 'casually bumping into each other' plan got screwed because of me.

Blaise laughs at my imaginary plot of what had happened that morning but nods nonetheless. "You're insane," he murmurs and I smirk. Seeing him this relaxed, relaxes me. So I close my eyes and get up straight again.

"You know, people might get the wrong idea."

The voice startled us both and I let go of his shoulders as fast as I could, as if I'd been doing something wrong. I can't see Blaise's face but I do see him tense up at once. Harry Potter is looking at me from the door, glaring at me with a smile that looks more like a painful smirk. I glare back, just because he had started it, and get closer to my friend's chair.

"Potter?" asks Blaise, getting up and putting the letter on his pocket, still looking at the Gryffindor. I don't move because he's still glaring at me. Blaise's voice seems to have some effect on the Gryffindor though and he turns to him, his face melting at once. I make another mental note.

"Where are you going for lunch?" asks Potter casually. Blaise shrugs and looks at me. I shrug back and raise an eyebrow.

"The cafeteria?"

Potter smiles and asks if he could come along. Blaise smiles a little and looks at me briefly before accepting. I sigh under my breath and follow them outside, feeling a little left out and being jealous about it. I don't want Potter to be there, I want to talk to Blaise and lunch is usually the time when I snatch him from everybody else.

We get to the cafeteria and, after gathering some food, we sit at a round table, Blaise 'between us', though technically he isn't.

"It seems we have a meeting tomorrow," comments Potter to Blaise. He isn't looking at me at all, which unnerves me. This is one of the very few times I feel like a third wheel and I definitely hate it.

"Do we?" asks Blaise surprised and goes for the letter on his pocket, being a memo actually and not a letter like I originally thought. He opens it and huffs. "It seems we do. What about?"

Potter seems about to start talking but then he shuts up and looks at me, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I don't think we can comment about it till we've gotten the details right."

I know what he's doing. He's setting me aside so he can have some time alone with Blaise. A little something I'm not part of. I narrow my eyes and am about to retort when Blaise's hand comes into vision and gets my bottle of juice. "You got the one I wanted!" he says half-indignant and gives me the evil eye in a mocking way. I laugh and give it to him, taking his in exchange.

All through this, I see Potter's face go from triumphant to angry. Not only is Blaise ignoring him completely, but he's also leaning towards my side and actually laughing with me, when he'd only got a surprised huff. What a dork.

Suddenly, I feel back at Hogwarts.

"So Potter, how are you doing now that 90% of the calls are about Muggle burglars?" I ask so we don't have to sit and look at our faces while Blaise keeps himself busy with his drink.

Potter has the decency to take it as a joke and chuckles darkly, "Definitely better than having to run after other wizards", and then he adds, "Even you could be an Auror now, Malfoy."

Blaise chuckles and looks at me apologetically. I glare daggers at him, but his voice calms me down, even when he says things that should've made me angrier. "Draco, you know you could be an Auror as much as you could be a Death Eater."

Potter seems shocked at the lightness with which we handle that subject, but I'm so used to it that my brain barely registers it. Blaise is probably the only person who makes it not uncomfortable to talk about. "I guess so," I answer and take a bite of my food. Blaise smirks then, mischievousness taking over his eyes.

"Do you think I could do it?" he asks Potter and I almost choke at the huskiness on his voice. It seems he has the same effect on Potter, whom actually chokes on his food. Blaise laughs and hands him the napkins, then looks at me with innocent slanting eyes and raises his eyebrows. He's playing the game. I shake my head lightly with a smile and get up.

They both look up at me with confusion, so I explain "I'm not so hungry. And I got a letter from Astoria that I'd like to answer before she sends a Howler."

"That woman," breathes Blaise, but he's smiling so it's fine. Then I take my leave.

As I walk to the trashcan to leave the tray, I eye them carefully so Potter won't notice. It seems their conversation has restarted, but it looks more like a monologue than a real dialogue. Blaise is talking animatedly and moving his arms on the air, briefly glancing at Potter to make sure he's still listening before going back to his wild narration. What really catches my eye isn't that because Blaise always moves his hands more than necessary when talking.

As I get out of the cafeteria and walk through the glass corridor, I think about Potter's dazzled face and grimace.

* * *

I've been working on the same standards for permitted wand materials for a couple of hours now and I can't concentrate anymore. I had seen what I didn't want to see, that Potter _does_ like Blaise and that, sadly, it goes both ways. So I have a decision to make and I'm not very sure I want to do the right thing.

On one hand, I can't hand my best friend to my worst enemy. True, we haven't been enemies for a long time and we've reached some kind of truce, but that doesn't mean I want him to be buggering Blaise after work. Actually, I don't want anybody to be buggering Blaise after work. On the other hand, I knew it was selfish of me. That, at some point, he'll pine for somebody and that person might not be as good as Potter is. I can be selfish, but not blind; even I can tell Potter is one of his best chances of a decent relationship.

So, I have to play -or keep playing- matchmaker. Which disgusts me to some extent. I write Astoria about it and I'm sure she'd laugh when she gets to read the letter. With a heavy sigh, I crack my neck and start to fall asleep, watching the clock moving slower than usual. Once more, I curse my brilliant idea of working at the Ministry and play with the thought of running to Father and asking him to give me a couple of shares to start with. I even laugh imagining Father's face when I tell him I hate having a working schedule, the stupid memos going in and out, or having a _boss_.

I'm better off this way, though. No need for further humiliation. As much as I know Father would comply, it won't be before telling me how he knew it was the wrong decision to make and that he'd known from the very beginning. I know I'll never live it down. And, after being almost dragged down to Azkaban because of my name, I don't want to get seriously involved with the Malfoy fortune either. Of course, that doesn't have anything to do with the gorgeous villa I'd bought for Astoria and I as a wedding present, or the ultra expensive jewellery and gowns I ordered for her. Those were family presents for the wedding, nothing illegal in that.

A knock on my door startles me. It isn't actually closed, so I can see Potter's green eyes staring at me, amused. I have to give it to him; he can be sneaky if he wants to.

"Yes?" I ask, not caring about being impolite. I feel a small blush on my cheeks at being caught staring into nothingness and laughing alone, but I urge it down by not acknowledging its presence.

"Can I…" he hesitates. I wait, raise an eyebrow and wait some more. He takes it as a sign and, with an exasperated huff, he takes a seat in front of me and frowns his lips. I look at him as he scratches the back of his neck, making faces that clearly denote he isn't sure if he can ask me whatever it is he wants to know.

"Just spit it out, Potter."

"You know Blaise."

I look at him as if he's a psycho. He blushes a little but his face is now firm and determined, a little angry at my rude behaviour. I wait for elaboration, but nothing comes out of his mouth.

"Oh, well, I guess I didn't know that. Thanks for dropping by and letting me know" I respond with fake thankfulness after a while. My patience has a limit.

"Malfoy," he practically growls, fisting one hand and looking at me through narrowed eyes. "I want to ask you a favour."

I lean back on my chair and grin smugly. This will be amusing then.

"I…" he hesitates again, which annoys me to no end. "I know his birthday is this Saturday." I wonder if the rumour of the party at my house has spread so much that it has gotten to the Auror's Office; but then again, if it has, Blaise would've let me know how mad he is. He hates surprises.

"So…?" His slowness when talking is really getting on my nerves, and he must have noticed it because he suddenly starts rushing through the words.

"I want to get him a present, but I don't know what he'd like. Since you've been his friend far longer than I have -" and here he grimaces, "I thought you might give me a piece of advice. Something he needs or likes. Anything."

I smirk and lean forward over my desk, elbows over the wooden table.

"You're _courting_ him and don't even know what to get him as a present?" I ask with fake surprise.

He frowns his lips and then bits the upper one. "It's not like that!" he snarls at me. "I just… want to get him something special. Whenever I ask him about what he likes, he gives me these vague responses, as if he likes _everything,_" he adds with a frustrated sigh that makes his whole face become darker.

I laugh in spite of myself and he glares at me.

"He's Blaise," I said as a way to explain. Watching his blank face –he's obviously not getting what I'm saying- I add, "He _does_ like anything. Though he has a lot."

Potter groans again and lets himself slump in his chair. His troubled expression makes me pity the poor man, so I make a disapproving sound with my tongue to get his attention and, once I have it, I pin him to his seat with a serious look.

"Someone like him isn't easily impressed, though he might not show it. He'll thank you and smile but you need something that's really special to catch his attention."

He huffs with a bitter smile. I watch him and think this is the first time I'm really _looking_ at this man. And he really seems to be troubled about this whole Blaise's birthday present affair. When Potter looks up, he's frowning with confusion. My guess is he might have seen some of my understanding of his situation on my face and doesn't know how to interpret it.

"You probably won't believe me, but I think I sympathize with your cause." Potter looks even more confused. "Maybe you should get him a star?"

Potter narrows his eyes even more, if that's possible without closing them. He gets up and stomps out of my office muttering something about stupid Slytherins and conceited bastards, with my laughter following all the way down the corridor. Then, just before he gets on the lift, he freezes and seems to be thinking about something before running towards another corridor. Guess my sarcasm worked.

Oh, Gryffindors were hilarious.

* * *

"You ready?"

I turn around and stare at him for a few seconds before nodding affirmatively. I smile at him when he brushes past me and heads towards the lift. His graceful steps ahead of me keep me smiling until the small bell of the arriving box sounds in the floor. Along with us, some others from his Department get in, most of them directing some words to Blaise, at which he smiles a little detached, until he turns to me and then he _really_ smiles. I smile back.

We get off the lift towards the Muggle exit of the Ministry. Theo had invited us to his house tonight but just moved in, so the chimney isn't connected to the Flu network yet. Therefore, we'll have to take a cab. He offered to pay for it, since we have no idea how to use Muggle money. If he hadn't, I probably wouldn't have gone through all the hassle.

"Draco, are you okay?" he asks me with worried eyes. "Is it about lunch?"

I laugh whole-heartedly and shake my head, passing one arm over his shoulders in a brotherly fashion. He smiles shyly but doesn't get away. This is what reminds me why I love him so much. His strong character melting under my fingers and transforming into that shy smile whenever we're together.

"I'd say you had fun at lunch," I joke, letting go of his shoulders.

Blaise smirk and wink, stopping in front of the exit when he hears his name being called. I immediately know whose voice is it.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Yes." says Blaise with a small smile. They seem clueless -which annoys me- and it had only taken me one day to figure the whole thing out. If I were Potter, I would've been pulling Blaise by the arm into a chimney and later into my bed. Though, in retrospective, that was more or less what I did and ended up with him not talking to me for almost three years.

"If you're leaving the Muggle way, I can help you?" Potter offers. Blaise seems to hesitate a second before sighing.

"Don't worry. We got directions and all. Our destination is paying for it, so we'll be fine."

The Gryffindor looks crest-fallen, but not as sad or mad as he might've been if Blaise had told him something along the lines of him going to _my_ house.

"Okay, then," Potter says and glances briefly at me. Then gives me a curt nod and Blaise a lingering look, "See you tomorrow."

"Yes. See you."

As Harry Potter disappears, I turn to Blaise with a grin but he holds up his hand and looks at me murderously.

"Don't say a _thing._"

I chuckle, but Blaise had already gotten into the booth. I follow him as I put on my coat, feeling my shrunken cloak in its pocket. I sigh as we get out onto the cold street and into the noise of the city. Blaise wrinkles his noise and covers his mouth as I pull the cloak tighter around me. We wait for a while until a person wearing a uniform asks if we're waiting for someone. We look at each other and tell him we wanted to take a cab, so he directs us to a place some yards away. And so we do.

Since Theo had told us it was more or less a 40 minute ride, I decide it's the perfect time to have the conversation I wanted to have at lunch, so I turn to Blaise. He's still looking out the window, but I can see a blush spreading from his neck upwards.

"Before you say anything, Draco, I'd rather you keep your mouth shut if you're going to make fun of me."

It hurts a little that he can be so cold sometimes, but I can't blame him. I smile my most sincere smile and he seems to relax a little when he turns towards me. His small smile gives away that he isn't mad at me at all, but very curious about what I have to say. We stare at each other for a moment before he frowns and starts looking suspicious.

"I'm shutting up because I was going to make fun of you."

At first, he looks shocked. Then, surprised. Finally, indignant. He crosses his arms and faces the window. I can't stop laughing, he makes it too easy sometimes. Once I get a grip of myself, I realize he's looking at me from the corner of his eye, so I reach out to touch his arm and turn him towards me once again.

"I was kidding."

He narrows his eyes.

"I'm sorry?"

Blaise inhales so deeply I worry his lungs might explode, but apparently he has a large breathing capacity. He looks at me with a crooked eyebrow, waiting for my report. So I put on my best business façade and start with the details. Or as many as I can remember.

"As I said earlier, he was waiting for you at the Atrium," Since he knew this, he only looks impatient as I use a slow pace to tell my observations. "Later, when I left you two at lunch, you should've seen his face. He looked… overwhelmed. Dazzled."

Blaise begins to smile a little and I want to continue, as if my words were fuelling his happy expression. Which, actually, they were.

"Around 5, he came to my office. He wanted to…" and here I stop. What if Blaise asks me what have I told him? What if he tells me to invite Potter to the party at my house? What if Potter won't get him anything in the end? What if Potter really wants it to be a surprise?

"He asked me if you were coming early tomorrow."

Blaise frowns a little and his grin starts to slip away.

"Which confirms," I affirm, believing the tale myself, "that he was indeed waiting for you at the Atrium today. He probably supposed you were early, so that's why he'd missed you. And asked me so he won't miss you tomorrow**.**"

His grin comes back full force but lopsided. I smile and sit back on my place. We had gotten closer due to his curiosity and my attraction to his smiling face, so I try to put back some distance between our faces.

"Thanks for making that up for me," he says softly. "I know he didn't go to your office for that."

I look at him sharply, but he doesn't look sad or angry, so I don't mind his telling me this.

"What we both saw though," I continue, "was his expression less than an hour ago when you didn't left the Ministry with him."

Blaise blushes but smiles nonetheless. "I'm really acting like a schoolgirl with a crush," he says embarrassedly and leans on my shoulder.

"Do I really like him that much, Draco?" he asks me. As if I knew! I could barely know what I was feeling inside of my own head. "Or is it just because he likes me that I think I like him?"

"So you really like him, huh? As in, not a thing that'll go away soon?"

Blaise shakes his head and sits straight, looking at me directly into the eyes. "If that were the case, I would've stopped feeling like this a long time ago."

"But didn't you say -"

"I lied. I really liked him _that_ way," he accepts defeated under the weight of my scrutinizing stare. "I thought you'd be mad. Since the war, I mean... it's been ages."

He looks worried about my reaction. As he well should be, if he were anybody else. But it doesn't affect me as it should've. I only sigh affectionately and press on his arm, grabbing him firmly but gently. "Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini," I mumble, more to myself, trying to engrave the idea in my head.

Blaise laughs, his laughter music to my ears, "He was, after all, my first platonic love."

I laugh with him, adding "Maybe not so platonic anymore, huh?"

Blaise looks at me grateful, not sure how to take this last phrase, but quickly forgets about it. The car had just stopped. We are in front of a small house in the suburbs and in front of the lawn there's a man around our age, with a heavy coat and a smirk pressed in place. He gives the driver his fare and then turns to the newcomers. Us.

"Blaise, Draco," he acknowledges. "Welcome to the Nott _Manor_."

The three of us laugh.

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Summary**: Draco starts observing Harry's behaviour and finds some things that makes him think Blaise's theory might not be that off after all.

**Saturday, January 17****th****, 2009**

**----------------------------------------------------**


	3. Day 3, Wednesday: Harry's anger

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (3/7)

**Author**: GaBo0

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue). Post-Hogwarts.

**Length:** 2,721 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

Thanks to the wonderful **Mara202** for beta-ing chapter this chapter and pointing out some serious mistakes I needed to correct. Since I've never written on present tense and first person, it turned out to be more difficult than I thought and I kept going from one tense to another.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By GaBo0_

**  
Day Three, Wednesday: Harry's anger**

I'm feeling excited, of course. Its not that often I got a chance to talk with Blaise in private, even for work. I wonder when I'd started calling him Blaise in my head, when he stopped being Zabini or Malfoy's friend. It irks me that they're so close, how that man is always by his side whenever I want to catch him alone. Yesterday, he saw me lurking around the chimneys, which made me decide not to wait for him today. I'm not sure if Blaise sees my attention for what it is or appreciates it in any way. Hopefully, there's nothing between them.

I open the door to the meeting lounge we agreed to meet at and step in. It seems he's not there yet so I flop down ontothe armchair nearer the window and ponder. I'm sure Hermione will have a fit when she finds out about my little 'courting strategy'. Ron would laugh, of course, because I think he's not all that comfortable with my sexualityyet and laughing is the easy way out. Having been around his sister for such a long time doesn't have anything to do with it.

_Right._

I sigh.

"Tired?"

I look up and smile in spite of the frown that I know must've been on my face seconds before. Blaise is standing on the doorway, holding some papers and files and looking as delicious as ever. He has an eyebrow crooked upwards and a playful little smile on his lips. I have to keep myself from moaning.

"No, not really. Let me help you with that."

"I got it," he says, but I'm already getting half the things from his arms. He smiles politely and sits on the big sofa as I take my former position on the armchair.

"So, what do you know?"

"Straight to business, I see," I joke and grin at him, to which he narrows his eyes but keeps a lingering smile.

"That's why we're here, Potter," he tells me, taking one of the files and opening it on his lap. I divert my eyes from his hands to his face. "Work."

I breathe in his scent. It's something I'm not sure where I'd smelled it before, but it makes my heart ache with nostalgia. Maybe it's from Hogwarts. I stare at his bent profile, how his perfectly curved nose wrinkles slightly at whatever he's reading. I find that one of the features I like the most, since he looks incredibly cute whenever he does that.

"Are you done staring?" he asks without taking his eyes of the paperwork.

I smirk. "No."

He sighs and this time raises his head, facing me. For a second I think he's mad**, **but thenhe chuckles and shakes his head. I love his eyes, brilliant hazel eyes sparkling as he looks at me in amusement.

"Then finish already and get to work. I need to discuss some things with you, so if you would open those files," he trails off indicating some black files he pushes my way. I take them and open them, laying back on the chair and still looking at him. He glances at me questioningly.

"I'm almost finished," I say.

He looks shocked at my blatant flirting, but I won't budge. I want him, and he can't possibly not have notice by now. I have been leaving all kinds of signs, direct enough to make him understandI want more than a colleague relationship. I want to go out with him, at least on _one_ proper date.

Of course, I'm not sure if my little act is convincing enough. From what I've heard, he'd always dated jerks, tough-looking, ill-mannered blokes, so I'm not too sure he willwant to date _me_. Other than Malfoy, I would be one of the decent guys he seldom picks. Therefore, my acting like a flirting machine.

"What are you doing?" he asks in a disbelieving tone, but I guess he doesn't want an answer since he huffs and goes back to the papers. I smile and go back to a normal position in the chair.

"Here, second paragraph. What do you think that was?" I ask.

He seems relieved I'm back to work and starts talking about this person from Hungary that had come for permission on Dragon Transportation but was denied one. And some other things, information I know is important, but don't care about.

I'm an _Auror_; I'm tired of cleaning up everybody's mess as if we were the sodding Magical Police.

But, of course, I stay quiet, nodding every now and then, asking idle questions whenever he looks at me as if he could tell I'm not listening, watching his hands roam and dance over the papers and pictures hehave lay on the table in front of me.

"Potter?"

I turn to catch his eye.

"Are you going to do it?"

"Yes."

My answer is out of reflex, almost, but I think I did the right thing when he grins and lays back. I grin back and gather some papers.

"I thought it would bemore difficult to convince you," he murmurs, angling his head towards the table.

I chuckle. "It would've been, had they sent someone else."

He shakes his head again, amused. "Are you actually flirting with me or is this just another one of those bipolar episodes you seem to have? I've heard you have them often."

I frown and look at him seriously. He stares at me in the same fashion. I know what he's referring to. Almost a week ago, after having given him more attention than usual, I got mad at myself and decided to avoid him for a while. I couldn't, but he seems to have felt the changeand asked me about it the first time I talked to him after it.

"I'm working on that," I say dismissively.

He seems to like the answer. "The flirting or the bipolarity?" he says sounding vaguely amused.

"Both."

We both chuckle and he seems to relax. His hand goes up to push his hair backwards, some strands gracing his forehead when he let it go. I love that he keeps his hair a bit too long; I'd like to entwine my fingers in it and pull at it gently when…

"Is that why you wait for me at the Atrium?"

He takes me out of my musings with that accusation. I try to look appalled, but his knowing smirk tells me he knows. "There's no need to lie, Potter. I'm better at it than you."

"Probably," I say, inwardly cursing probably is the one who sold me off. Not that he knows, but he seemed to suspect somethingwhen he found me yesterday.

"I like it when you get out ofthe flames all ruffled and dishevelled."

I don't know where that comes from, only that the blush that spreads slightly over his cheekbones is so alluring that I now have the urge to lean over and touch him. I've feltthis _need_ to touch him for quite some time now and I'm not sure how much long I can restrain myself.

He composes himself in a moment and looks at me with mock scolding, "I didn't know you went for the messy type."

"I go for _your_ type." I say with a cheeky grin.

He chuckles again, but I see he's getting nervous. I know I'm being overly direct, but it is about time he realizes I'm not just following him around to have a small talk about Ministry work. I really like him. He's a smart person to talk to, he has a sense of humour that not many understand and he makes my stomach do a flip-flopevery time he gives me that lopsided smile of his.

Bollocks, I _really_ like him.

A knock on the door breaks the somewhat awkward moment and I see Kevin Entwhistle pop his head and his eyes go from Blaise to me.

"Harry, the Minister is looking for you everywhere. He says something about personal matters he has to go over with you."

The Ravenclaw is very formal and uptight, but he's a nice bloke. He was with us at Hogwarts, our year, but never heard much of him there.

"Hello, Kevin," I hear Blaise say. The other nods and smiles slightly, then turns around and leaves.

"You know him?" I ask with a small frown. I know Blaise has many friends, just not in my Department. For a Slytherin, he was well liked once school was over.

"Of course, his uncle is my Mother's cousin." He answers dismissively.

As if that was obvious. It seems to be for him if I were to judge from the look he is giving me.

"WillI see you later? Say, lunch?" I suggest hopefully.

He seems to ponder my invitation and then cracks a smile. "If you promise to stop your aggressive flirting, I will."

I smile and agree.

* * *

The Minister finally let me go but it is far too late to meet Blaise. Lunch finished almost an hour ago now. I hopehe isn't mad, although he probably assumed I had gotten delayed at the Minister's. Plus, it's very likely he had eaten with Malfoy.

I frown and stalk to my office. Good thing we are at the second level or I would scare more witches than necessary. As soon as I get there, I see a small owl sitting on my chair and my hand shoots out for the message. Somewhere inside, I hope its Blaise's, but no such luck. Its Ron's, explaining to me why he is using an owl inside the Ministry –the paper things aren't working yet- and that he's downstairs waiting to meet me so I could give him Hermione's anniversary gift.

I'd almost forgotten I'm keeping it for him. Careful of not tumbling over my stuff, I go to the lowest drawer of my desk and get out the velvet box with the ring in it. Such a nice present for a 5-year anniversary: a marriage proposal.

The owl promptly flees out of my office with Ron's clearance pass. I have no interest in getting out for now, since the idea of not getting to lunch with Blaise while Malfoy probably had, is irritating me. Well, to be fair, I've been irritated since getting out of the Minister's office.

I'm not even sure why he keeps asking me to come. The whole Sirius affair is already closed; he doesn't have to do more ceremonies or public apologies. I feel as if, every time he's bored, he uses one of the people who had fallen inthe war to appear in The Prophet. And it sickens me, but it's easier to endure a little than having him ask to parade _me_ on the news.

"Hello, mate."

I smile at Ron and shake his hand. He sits himselfon my desk, looking expectantly at me.

"Here it is. Your death sentence." I joke.

He chuckles and opens the box. His eyes sparkle a little while he touches the delicate golden ring inside. The diamond in it is small, but big enough considering Ron's lack of enormous fortune. And we both know that Hermione would've a fit if it were any bigger.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he says softly and looks at me for validation.

"You better or someone else would get her."

He chuckles dismissively but his eyes harden a little. I know how jealous Ron is and how possessive he's always been, especially of Hermione.

He sighs, relaxed, and gets up, flopping down onto the chair, his already tousled hair even more messy than usual.

"Aren't you cutting it?" I say motioning at it. "You know she likes it short."

He shrugs. "She knows I like her messy hair better and still insists on tying it up every single day."

I laugh at him and shake my head. Then my past irritation comes back, though Ron seems oblivious. He's never been good at reading people, not even at school.

"You know I saw Charlie before coming here," he comments off-handedly. "He almost has his permit to expand his Dragon Restraint Unit… wherever he's working now. He was just telling me how amusing it was to get back here; he is full of gossip and had only been threedays since he arrived."

I chuckle.

"I'd say he has a crush on his boss. You know, Zabini," he continues. Now I actually pay attention to him. "He told me about him when we ran into each other before. How he glows when he walks, how he turns heads, how he _blushes_." It seems the subject is making Ron's skin crawl. He says it all lightly and in a mocking way, but it's stirring the anger inside of me and he's as oblivious as always.

"Good thing Charlie is straight, though. If not, he'd kill Malfoy. He even told me so," Ron says in amusement and shakes his head, toying with the box between his fingers.

"Malfoy?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Yes," he answers indifferently and keeps on talking. "Charlie thinks there's something going on between them. The whole Department is talking about it, feeling sorry for Malfoy's girlfriend. Well, they had a thing after the war, didn't they?"

Ron, the gossip messenger. Who would've thought? Too bad I'm neither in the mood nor like the gossip. Which he, surprisingly enough, seems to notice.

"Are you alright, mate?"

"Yes," I say, but regret it immediately. "No, actually, I'm not. I've got tons of work to do and-"

"Oh, you're right," he say, surprised, as he gets up and offers a sheepish smile. "Thanks for keeping it for me, Harry, and wish me luck."

I wish him luck with as much of a smile I can manage and watch himwalk down the corridor. Then I return to my paperwork, feeling a steadily increasingbuzzing in my ears. The quill between my fingers trembles and I have to put it down.

I'm so _mad _and not even sure at whom.

* * *

Almost an hour has passed since Ron left, but I can't calm myself down. I know better than to listen to office gossip, but I can't help it. It was as if all ofmy own suspicions had been confirmed. There _was_ something between them. And I'm making a fool of myself in front of them both, acting like a stupid lovesick Gryffindor lusting after that bloody Slytherin.

I pace around in my office, trying to convince myself that it was all justgossip, but the more I try, the more I know it must be true. They always have lunch together, leave together most of the times. Malfoy spends more time at Blaise's office than his own. And that massage show yesterday? Sure, friends. _Ha_.

Inhaling sharply, I arrange my stuff and grab my coat. I need to go to Muggle London, search for a bar and drown myself in alcohol without _The Prophet_ or some tabloid making it public. The last thing I want is to give them another laugh.

The witches at the elevator look at me confusedly, but I don't care. I leave a note on my door, saying I'm not feeling welland to owl me if it's urgent.

On my way to the Atrium, I'm not really thinking or looking around. I hear my name a couple of times, but I keep walking determinedly, waving everything off with a dismissive gesture. Or at leastI try, till I hear his voice.

"Potter, are you leaving?"

I slow down andglance at Blaise, who looks concerned. I take a breath and am about to come up with a lie of sorts but then I recognise a pale blond head some steps behind him. So they had lunch together, after all. Probably been together since then.

I narrow my eyes at him and turn.

"Hey, I asked you someth-"

"Yes," I mutter with my back to him, looking over my shoulder. "I'm leaving." I don't even pause to see his expression, just tell him that with a tone ofvoice I know must have been the coldest I'veever used with him and walk towards the booth.

Once there, I get in. I keep my back to Blaise, not wanting to see his face againanytime soon.

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Summary**: Harry and Blaise have their meeting, in which Harry can't help but flirt with the other. Later, when Ron arrives, Harry learns some gossip that makes him angry at the Slytherin.

**Saturday, January 17****th****, 2009**

**----------------------------------------------------**


	4. Day 4, Thursday: Blaise's dejection

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (4/7)

**Author**: GaBo0

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue)

**Length:** words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

Thanks to the wonderful **Mara202, **who pointed out some serious mistakes I needed to correct. The editing of this chapter was mostly following her directions.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By GaBo0_

**  
Day Four, Thursday: Blaise's dejection**

I've been fidgeting with some thoughts since yesterday but I still can't quite understand Potter's behaviour. I'm starting to believe he's utterly insane. He was all flirty and pretty straight forward about it yesterday and some hours later he's acting as if I was the pest myself.

I glare at the papers in front of me until one of my co-workers tells me its time for the meeting. I gather everything under my arm –everything being a small pile of files and documents-, and head to the meeting hall. I've always love that place, with its big polished wooden table that could accommodate fourteen people easily but usually has groups of five or six. As I'd thought, this meeting was no different.

On the table, there are only other two Aurors apart from Harry, my partner and myself. He's not what one usually calls a partner, but as close as one as we can get on my Department, since we have almost no field work. At least, I didn't. Harry sits at the head of the table, being the one with more rank over us all. Since I'm the senior worker from my division, I'm the next one in rank, which isn't so satisfactory when I still have to acknowledge he's higher up the hierarchy ladder.

"Yesterday," he says with a cold tone I'm not used to. "I had a meeting with Mr. Zabini here and he explained to me the special circumstances of this unfortunate incident. As you all know, Aurors were called in because the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures doesn't go around something that might look like the doing of wizards. Therefore-"

"Aurors are called in a lot, lately," murmurs one of the younger Aurors and Harry glares at him.

"Excuse me?" he says. A battle of sorts ensues between the three Aurors. It seems they aren't that much lower in rank.

My partner looks at me and rolls his eyes, at which I chuckle quietly. Harry notices and gives me a deathly glare that sends a shiver down my spine. "Do you want to say something, Zabini?"

I shake my head and, from the tone of his voice, the rest must have realized it's not a good time to mess with him. I see that too and decide to quietly listen to his explanation –and I thought he hadn't been listening at all yesterday-, raising an eyebrow now and then, wanting to get under the table whenever his cold eyes meet mine or call his attention to me whenever he ignores me for too long.

"Is it wise," I interrupt when he finishes and there's a small pause, "to go out in such a small group? Even if we're talking about a mere dragon, he's a fiery kind and you're not specially _trained._"

"Thanks for worrying" say Harry in a very vicious tone. It makes me feel silly and I wish I hadn't opened my mouth. "I don't think a dragon is worth worrying though. We can deal with it."

I think I'm missing something there.

"A dragon" he continues, "is nothing we should be afraid of. Now, if it were a fluffy small animal, that's when we'd worry because it's more prone to be an animagus, maybe some Dark Wizard disguising himself as a cuddly _pet_."

He is being plain nasty and it feels on his words. He is making fun of me in front of the other three and, when I see one of them snickering, I frown but keep my voice firm and steady.

"Of course. This is why you're always sent to deal with Dark Creatures? They leave the Fluffy Pets to the other teams?"

I know its stupid to fall under his game, but he'd been smiling such a spiteful smile that I can't help it. It seems my answer takes the others unprepared and one of them moves uncomfortable on his seat.

Harry cracks a wicked smile and glares at me with narrowed eyes. "I think I've had enough of Dark Wizards and they know it. They're always the same. Putting on a nice façade and then biting your hand. They aren't even worth the trouble."

I crease my brow and somehow get the idea he's talking about me. Mother always says I'm too dense for some subtleties.

"Not worth the trouble?" I repeat, this time getting angry.

"Exactly. Especially because they're usually rotten and overused."

He's being obvious now, because this has nothing to do with Dark Creatures or Dark Wizards. It seems the other three realize this has turned into a private conversation since the very moment I opened my mouth and they mumble something about leaving. Harry motions for them to sit, but they press on and start to leave. Only my partner stays longer, gathering all the documents and sending me nervous glances.

"That was very professional," I say when my partner finally get out with quiet footsteps.

He growls and I turn my eyes towards his face. He isn't regretful and keeps staring at me, glaring daggers with his dark green eyes. I get up and pace for some seconds, his eyes locked on me. It makes me feel cold sweat at the nape of my neck.

"What…" I start but I'm not sure what I want to ask. "Why…" then again, no words come out, so I press two fingers to the arc of my nose and try to clear my head.

"Isn't this what you like?"

I stiffen when I feel his body dangerously close to my back, his hissed whisper burning in my ear. One of his hands goes to my neck and stay there, lingering just above my hair, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I open my eyes and turn around, facing him with a glare on my face.

"What's gotten into you?" I demand. "Yesterday, you were fucking me with your eyes and today you think I'm not _worth it_?! Or did I understand wrong? Didn't we have an agreement on your bipolarity?!"

I know I've kept my voice from rising, therefore making it a hissed question full of anger. But also full of desperation, for I need to know what I'd done wrong. I hate the situation, the lack of attention, the absence of the casual flirting and smiles and glances that lift my ego on a daily basis.

"Maybe I got myself a better deal," he tells me nonchalantly.

I take some steps back till I hit the wall with surprise on my face. So this is what this is all about. "You just wanted to get _laid_?" I ask softly, more of an affirmation than a question, before he advances towards me and puts an arm securely over my right shoulder, keeping me trapped between him and the wall.

"I don't owe you anything, _Zabini_. Not even an explanation" murmurs Harry, his hot breath hitting my lips. "I don't understand why you're so mad. You still get Malfoy to bugger you," he adds innocently, with a mocking and vicious smile.

My arms move again and I push him away from me. Not as hard as I should, but enough so I can have room to move. He had shocked me there, that's true, but I'm not mad anymore. I know now why he's acting different, which was what I needed to know. I don't care anymore. I'm not hurt at being discarded as a fuck that played too hard to get.

"Let me pass," I say imperturbably when he blocks my way to the door.

"No crying?" he mocks me, still smiling. I glare at him and feel a rush of rage telling me to punch him square in the face, but I control it. Getting into a physical fight won't help me in any way, so I subdue that desire as fast as I can.

"Why should I?" I respond. "I don't owe you anything either."

He bumps into the wall lightly when I push him out of my way again. I don't even try to decipher what he yells at my back because I don't care. Having a collected expression on my face is getting more and more difficult with each step and I find soon that I need to hurry to my office.

As soon as I get there, I flopped down onto my chair and put my head on my arms over the table.

* * *

Strong knocking on my door wakes me up. I try to relax my tense muscles but my neck won't budge. It suffered on the position I had fallen asleep in. I scold myself for crashing over my desk like that; thank god I closed the door when I passed through it in a rush earlier.

Letting my eyes get use to the light, I tell the newcomer to wait a minute and the knocking stops. After cleaning my face on the tiny bathroom attached to my office, I go to the door and open it. Charlie Weasley stands there, with his brilliant white smile, leaning on the doorframe. At the sight of my face though, his expression changes to one of worry.

"Are you alright?"

I've been hearing that a lot lately, I muse. "Yes," I said, still groggy from sleeping.

I glance at my clock and realize I've been out for quite a while, since lunch is already over and it's actually only an hour and a half before going home. I've lost almost the whole day, which means taking some paperwork home. I groan.

"Do you have the documents I asked for?" I question him as I take a sit and try to fix my hair.

Charlie grins but I ignore it and stare at him seriously.

"You sure are okay? You seem a little sick and your eyes look red. Maybe a cold?" he asks as he hands me the stack of papers.

I glare at him and he finally shuts up. Silence is bliss while I go over the documents and sort them out in the order they need to be. I can feel Weasley looking at me from the other side of the desk, sometimes a small smile gracing his face.

"Stop it, I'm fine" I exclaim, my voice sounding more irritated than I really am.

He raises his arms in a defensive manner and smiles innocently. I sigh and keep moving papers around.

"You know this is the third time you went over that one, right?" he tells me in amusement.

I glare at the paper, as if it has anything to do with my being distracted. I sigh and hear him getting up. Later, a glass of water is being pushed against my hand and I look at him curious. "You really look bloody awful."

I chuckle in spite of my gloomy mood and accept the water, drinking it all at once.

"Do you fancy something stronger?" he asks mischievously.

"Only if you buy," I answer with a bitter smile, still looking at the glass of water.

His laughter fills my ears and, instead of cheering me up, it only makes me more depressed. "I don't think I want to mess with someone who's taken."

That really caught my attention and I look up from the water. I can tell he knows I want to know what the hell he is talking about. "You know, duels aren't my thing. And I don't fancy blokes, no offense," he finishes with an apologetic smile for which I don't feel the need at all.

"What do you mean _taken_, Weasley?" I ask somewhat rudely and he flinches a little at my change in tone.

"Well, I've heard…" he trails off and stops.

I frown deeply when he doesn't elaborate and gather all his documents. Then, I get up under his alarmed stare and walk towards the chimney down the hall.

"Hey, wait!" he yells once he realizes what I was going to do. "Are you mad?!" he asks agitated as he drags me back by my forearm and sits me back on my desk. I'm surprised at his strength, but then I remember he's used to deal with dragons so I shouldn't have been so surprised after all, considering I'm a weakling too.

"Explain," I demand.

He fidgets with his shirt for a moment and then nods at the papers. I scowl but put them on the desk, his eyes losing the alarm they'd had. He also sits and sighs heavily, obviously uncomfortable now that he realizes he'd said too much.

"Weasley," I hiss threateningly, getting impatient.

"Alright," he finally says with defeat. "I heard from people working here that you were having an affair of sorts with Malfoy."

I can't believe it.

"He has a girlfriend!" I burst out indignant, but he gives me a look that clearly says he doesn't believe I'm the type that cares. I feel insulted for a minute and we stay silent, he obviously waiting for me to put the Approved sign on his paperwork and myself trying to recover from the shock.

"Zabini?"

"Who told you that?" I ask composed now. I wasn't really expecting office gossip about Draco and myself, but now that I think about it, it makes a bit sense. When I turn to Charlie, he keeps silent. "Can't tell?" I say with a bitter smile. "Who in the world would get that idea?" I muse angrily out loud, just ranting since I know anyone could get that idea from the way we act.

Charlie has the indecency to chuckle an obviously doesn't get rhetoric. "Well," he tries to explain "you two _do_ spend an awful lot of time together, don't you? And you used to be a couple-"

"That was _ages_ ago!" I say only for the sake of saying something and make him shut up.

I know I've surprised him with my little outburst and, not wanting to give him more gossip material, I get the sign he's waiting for and mark his petition sheet. He grins triumphant, but my gloomy face makes him stand a little awkwardly at the door. I'm supposed to get up and tell him goodbye, thanks for going through the process, but I don't feel like it.

"I'm sorry if I upset you" he says with real regret. So I sigh, get up and shake his hand, acting like a professional. "If it's not true, then it shouldn't be a problem. Gossip is gossip, nobody listens to it," he adds.

I smile weakly as he leaves. Inwardly I think he should tell Potter that.

* * *

Gossip is gossip. Yeah, right. _Bollocks,_ that's what that is. If they are talking because of how Draco and I act when we're together, then this piece of gossip must have been going around for several months now, maybe a year, which clearly proved there were people listening to it and _believing_ it, since it's still alive. And, apparently, Potter is one of them.

I'm so mad I need to get out of the office, but I can't make myself leave. First, Harry's –_Potter's_, I had to remind myself- weird behaviour and then learning about what is being said behind my back had gotten on my nerves and I'm already toying with the idea of running to the hills and send a letter of resignation. It's exaggerating a little, yes, but that's how miserable I feel at the moment. Especially because I'm almost sure the former is the most likely cause of Potter's sudden coldness.

I watch in painful agony as the clock finally gets to the number I need it to be to get out and then, I quickly grab my things and head to the elevator. Draco is already there and frowns at me.

"Are you alright?"

I glare. "I'm sick of everyone asking me that today," I hiss and walk past him inside the lift. He frowns and follows me, still looking at me closely. He stays silent just because he knows I hate public scenes, but I can tell he's dying to ask me what has gotten into me.

As soon as we step out of the thing, I hurry to the chimneys but he caught up with me soon enough.

"You don't show up at lunch, you disappear the whole day. The messages I keep sending you bounce. Would you _bloody_ _stop_?!" he finally says in a slightly higher tone, but its enough for some workers to turn their heads, even if they didn't stop walking. Especially because he had taken me from the arm and flung me around so I'd stop, my bag hitting a couple of wizards.

"Let go of me, I don't owe _you_ an explanation," I say murderously, but feel immediately bad at the hurt look that flashes through his eyes. He let go of my arm but I don't try to get away. Instead, I face him properly and grab his shoulders with a calm expression. Let this be another piece of gossip to the already existing one.

"I'm fine" I murmur. "It has been a rough day and…"

But I can't continue. I have a sad smile on my face and he seems to understand I need to deal with this on my own. Still, he asks just as a confirmation, "Do you want to stay over or something?"

I smile but shook my head no. I want to go home, pour me some whisky and get into bed with my head so full of alcohol that this whole mess of a day would get lost in a drunken blur.

"You sure?"

I nod and he follows me towards the chimneys, still looking worried. He says goodbye, but his eyes stay glued to one of the chimneys a couple down from ours. I turn around with a raised eyebrow and see Potter looking at us, a cold expression on his face. I think he's glowering at us.

"Has he been glaring all day?" Draco asks in a hushed voice but, when I nod smiling sadly, he looks at me with a renewed expression of worry. "Did he do anything-?"

"No, Draco. See you tomorrow" I whisper and squeeze his arm briefly. Then, the green flames embrace me and I'm finally back at my house.

Since there are no lights turned on, I walk in the darkness till I get to the playroom. Swiftly, I open the bar and pour myself a large glass of whisky. Thinking it twice, I take the bottle with me and head to my room. There, I let myself fall on the bed once I place the liquor on the bedside table and strip down to my underwear.

The first glass is soon gone and then several more follow suit. Soon, the bottle is much lighter as is my head. In the state I am now, I start to laugh, a drunken laughter that barely reaches my ears. It's ridiculous, yet I know deep inside that it's the only possible explanation. This is stronger than whatever I've felt before and I have to admit defeat. So I laugh.

I've realized I'm in love with Potter just before passing out.

TBC

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**Chapter Summary**: Blaise is upset at Harry's behaviour and they confront each other at a meeting. Later, he hears the gossip including him and drinks himself to sleep.

**Saturday, January 17****th****, 2009**

**----------------------------------------------------**


	5. Day 5, Friday: Harry's realization

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (5/7)

**Author**: GaBo0

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue)

**Length:** 5,373 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

Thanks to the wonderful **Mara202, **who pointed out some serious mistakes I needed to correct. The editing of this chapter was mostly following her directions.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By GaBo0_

**  
Day Five, Friday: Harry's realization**

It's Friday already and I'm not sure I can keep up this silent treatment I've been putting Blaise through. I'm not sure if he's as anxious as I am to talk to each other either, but I don't care. I want to see him _badly_. It's similar to the need I used to have to be with Sirius when he was on the run and I was still on fourth year; yet it's an entirely different ache. I didn't have dreams of hugging Sirius, and hugging is the least I do to Blaise on my dreams.

Work is such a bother that I'm sitting on my desk, desperately waiting for it to be lunch time, while I play with some paperwork I'd already finished. Not only had the Auror Division had a huge absence of real work, but I'm not in the mood to put my mind into the petty jobs we're supposed to do to avoid suspension.

Finally its lunch time, so I grab my wallet and get out of here before anybody else. I want to run into Blaise, but this is usually the time Malfoy is around him and I certainly don't want to cross paths with _him_.

As soon as I'm out on the street, I take a cab. The bistro we had arranged to meet isn't far at all, but I don't want to walk. Many people might find it relaxing, but having had to walk more than necessary when living with the Dursleys, it only reminds me of painful walks to and from school and the lurking dangers of bullies or –as it was a couple of years after third year- Dementors. I'd rather take a cab every single time.

The small restaurant looks cosy enough and I know Hermione must have picked it up because of the food. She isn't one to go for fancy restaurants, saying she loses her appetite before the food is even on her plate. I know it also has something to do with the fact that Ron doesn't make much money at work and her job as a Medi-Wizard isn't the most lucrative career of all either. As for me, I'd always like small restaurants, since they mean less probabilities of having a reporter snap a picture of me with my nose full of spaghetti.

I'm amazed at how the media makes my life miserable whenever they feel I'm not getting enough attention.

"Harry!"

I turn to the voice and walk smiling to the radiant couple. Hermione looks gorgeous on her blue dress, a small necklace shining on her neck. Ron looks as dishevelled as always and I smirk at the odd picture they make. I also note that Hermione doesn't have her hair tied up as always and Ron has cut his a little bit.

"How're you, mate?" says Ron as he gets up and pulls into a hug. I shrug, a little taken aback by his effusiveness, and greet Hermione with a kiss on the cheek.

"It's been a while since we saw each other," she says sadly but still smiling. Ron and I grin conspiratorially but she doesn't notice. "How have you been? How's work?"

I tell them a little about it, but there isn't much to tell so we rapidly skip to Hermione's latest patients and, then, to Ron's latest students. "I'm glad to see you're doing well," I say when he proudly announces his class had almost doubled the last month.

"Well, _I_ wished he'd put as much enthusiasm on the store as he does on those chess classes," Hermione adds with some disapproval on her tone.

Ron rolls his eyes and I realize this is an argument they usually have. I've already heard Ron's excuse for himself saying that his brother was at the store, so after having the books sorted, he has nothing else to do. Surprisingly, he is pretty efficient as an accountant, so he has more free time than expected, enough to expand his chess teaching on the afternoon, which, from the looks Hermione is sending me, isn't much of her liking.

I clear my throat. "That's better than having to chase around dragons."

They laugh and look at me with some sympathy. "Is it that bad?" asks Hermione. "In some way, it's good though… I'm sorry the lack of Dark Wizards is making your job boring."

I glare mockingly at her as the food arrives. We eat in comfortable silence for a while, but the Blaise affair starts nagging at me again and Hermione notices. As I was expecting she would.

"Is something the matter?" she questions with narrowed eyes. When I shake my head, she presses on, "Oh, Harry Potter, tell me about it."

I smile defeated and Ron looks at me apologetic, knowing that when she uses her severe voice we couldn't say no. Trying to get everything sorted on my head, I start pouring out the whole thing. How I noticed Blaise a couple of months ago, after he left training and we had some cases together, about dragons or something. How he was always hanging around with Malfoy so I didn't really have that much time to talk to him alone. How he was a Slytherin from our year and I could never relate him to the boy at the Slug Club, even though I'd seen him there. How he seems to be smart and funny and gentle and he laughs at my futile attempts of communication. How he'd never told me off when I'd flirted with him, directly or not.

After some minutes of me talking nonstop, Hermione listening intently and Ron looking kind of dizzy with all the details, I relate the events of the last week. The meeting, the flirting, his first response to it, the rumour (and here Ron blushes embarrassed), the silent treatment and his absence today at work.

Hermione frowns at me. "Harry Potter, you sure are an idiot." She exclaims and Ron and I flinch at her words. "Those are rumours. Remember when Rita Skeeter said _we_ were a couple and how utterly wrong she was? Well, that was on a _magazine_! And you're actually listening to office gossip. I thought _you_ should know better."

I feel my face flush at her reprimand because I know it was true. Still, I try to defend myself, but she raises her hand and silences me.

"You know I'm right," she declares. Then, her face softens and offers me a smile, taking my hand.

There's a pause. I ponder what she'd told me and I have to agree again. She's absolutely right and I've been an idiot. The silence is getting a little too long and I squirm uncomfortable.

"You should be with whoever you like and forget about what everyone's saying, Harry," mumbles Ron.

Hermione and I turn to him, surprised that he'd interfere like that, supporting my choice of partner in a way. I look at him grateful and he gives me a lopsided smile, but its enough. I watch as Hermione squeezes his arm, happy he'd finally seems to be coming to terms with my sexuality and they star at each other lovingly. Something inside me clicks and I sit there, smiling sadly at their affectionate and silent exchange. I know that's how you must look when in love.

The moment seems to dissolve and they both turn to me with embarrassment. I chuckle and return to my food, going back to our silent eating from a couple of minutes ago. Later, when we finish, I ask about their anniversary. Hermione's face lights up instantly and she raises her hand in front of my face, the delicate ring resting on her finger, glittering under the lights of the restaurant. I'm almost shocked I haven't noticed it or they haven't brought it up before.

"Congratulations!" I say to them both a little too effusive, but Ron smiles at me with an arm possessively over Hermione's shoulders. She starts to tell me how he'd proposed, romantic dinner under the starts and roses. She admits it was all very cliché and how she'd always criticized that kind of things. "Now," she tells me, "I get all those movies where the girl ends up crying like crazy. It really sets the mood and it doesn't look cheeky from the inside."

I smile at her as Ron's face gets redder with every word.

"I couldn't believe it at first," she continues, "Ron making a commitment. Asking me to marry him! Sure, he knew this was very important to me and I was incredibly happy when he did…" then, she trails off and just stares radiantly at Ron.

He chuckles and gives her a brief kiss on the temple as I stand there, looking at them with a huge smile on my face and my eyebrows raised. I think I've never seen her so happy and Ron seems to be thinking along those lines too.

"Oh, Harry, don't put on your cynic face!" Hermione whines and I laugh at how awkward it's to hear her whining. "You'll see. When you find somebody you want to marry, I'll also laugh at your love-struck face."

"I don't think I want to get married," I admit without thinking, but Hermione makes a dismissive gesture and clicks her tongue as if I'm taking nonsense.

"Your time will come," she assured me and sounds dangerously like a curse. "When you meet someone you love. Really love. Someone –" and she struggles with the words again, "you care so much you need to have that person by your side. Give them the security and support they need. Make them happy –"

"Because that makes you happy too," adds Ron distractedly.

When they realize what they just did, they exchange caring smiles.

I'm awestruck at how that declaration had come out so naturally of them both and how they were back again on their world full of heart and roses in a blink. It might be a little creepy but I'd go for adorable. But something Hermione said has stuck on my mind. So they want to make each other happy because that made them happy too? That makes sense. Do I want to make Blaise happy? Certainly I don't want to make him sad. I've observed him yesterday and every time I saw him with other expression that wasn't his cheery self, I felt something break on my chest.

Do I want to have him by my side, give him all I can so he doesn't feel there's anything lacking on his life? Do I _love_ him?

"Harry, are you alright?" asks me Ron with a worried expression.

I shake my head. "I screwed up."

* * *

I arrive at my office a little late after lunch. Ron and Hermione had kept nagging about my answer, but I hadn't budged, so they left me alone after a while. After saying goodbye and promising to visit their lot soon, I came back as fast as I could and still couldn't beat the clock.

Anxiousness is still making me jumpy. I keep drumming my fingers on the desk or moving my foot uncontrollably. I get up, sit down, pace around and still can't concentrate properly. My office is making me feel claustrophobic.

I close the door with a soft click and head to the toilet. Groaning at the sign on the door, I head towards the lift, looking for restrooms that aren't 'out of service'. There, when the gates open, I find myself standing in front of one Draco Malfoy, instantly glaring at me behind a paper, his platinum blond hair making his irritated gaze more pronounced.

I ignore him and get inside, making room for myself next to him. I curse my luck, of course.

"Blaise came in late today, did you know?" he comments to no one special, but I know he's talking to me. "Weird thing, I can't remember the last time he did."

I frown and turn to him but he stays indifferently reading the paper on his hands, some report with highlights in different colours.

"Very weird, indeed," he murmurs.

He's pissing me off. "Would you shut up?" I hiss and the wizard next to me frowns at my rude behaviour.

Malfoy glares at me and, as soon as the elevator stops, he gets out. I follow him not really meaning to. We're almost shoulder to shoulder when I make a turn to the restroom and he does too.

He sneers, "Not enough bickering for today, Potter?"

I sigh and run past him into an empty stall. My eyes narrow at the sound of him moving outside, probably smirking at himself on the mirror, checking if his perfect hair is in place. But he isn't making any sound now; I can only hear the water running on one of the sinks.

"He's been acting strange," I hear him continue, talking over the sound of water. "Blaise, I mean."

As if that wasn't obvious.

"He's being distant. Even with me," and here he huffs indignant. "I talked to him about getting lunch but he declined and locked himself up on his office. He said he had a headache, but I think it was more like a hangover. That'll explain his coming in late today" he adds with a conversational tone that sounds too pleasant. Too carefully planned to sound authentically polite.

"You get your act together, Potter," and his sharp tone is back full force, the one he always used with me at school. "If not, I'll make sure those rumours about me and him having an affair become true."

Blood boils inside of me and I raise my head from my hands, stand up from my seat on the stall and open the door with more force than necessary, but Malfoy isn't there anymore. He'd left after finishing his little threat –because is that's not a threat, then I'm not sure what they were.

Then it downs on me. We hadn't met accidentally.

He had followed me.

* * *

Work helps me get my head occupied for some minutes, but as it had been for most of the day, I can't control my limbs from moving and I finally end up filling out some reports that needed a couple of simple comments and observations. Since they're mostly blank, I only scan through them and put them on the Out pile.

I've been thinking again about what Hermione said, about caring so much for someone you want to have him by your side. And then I thought about Malfoy's threat. Thinking about Malfoy having Blaise for himself, his arms around him, sneering at me from over Blaise's shoulders. Only the idea of it sends a rush of anger through my veins and ends up with me almost hyperventilating on my office, alone, crumpling one of the reports on my fist.

I breathe deeply a couple of times and calm down, sitting on my desk. I decide that, even if I'm not sure I'm in love or not, I want to be Blaise's most important person. I want him to look only at me, to be by _my_ side whenever I need him to. I want to be able to touch him when my fingers tremble for it, to hold him when my body aches to do so. I decide that, even if it isn't love, its pretty close, so I have to do something to undo the last couple of days.

I need to undo the consequences of the stupid silent treatment due to office gossip I've been putting him through.

As soon as its time to go home, I rush down to the Atrium, knowing I'd find Blaise walking with Malfoy towards the chimney that went to his area of town. True enough, I see them very near his exit, Blaise looking especially gloom, Malfoy looking frustrated. He seems to be talking, but the other has his head slightly down and I guess, because I can't see clearly, he's not responding.

Some wizards curse at me when I practically run them over to get to the couple in seconds. I rush through the groups of workers on their way home and reach them, gasping for air, trying to catch my breath when both wizards turn around to look at me with raised eyebrows and frowns on their faces, one deeper than the other.

"Blaise… _Zabini,_" I correct myself when he narrows his eyes. "Can we talk? We need to talk," I declare and he looks surprised.

He arches an eyebrow and stays silent, a straight line where there should've been a soft smile. Then, he spoke with a hurtful tone of voice. "What would I want to talk with _you_?"

I frown sad and lower my eyes, but somehow I catch Draco's glare on Blaise's direction and his nod on _my_ direction. Unbelievable indeed. Draco Malfoy is helping me out here.

Blaise sighs heavily. "Fine" he says unconvinced and my face lights up instantly. "Would you like to come over?" he asks, but doesn't wait for an answer before he turns around and stalks towards the chimney, looking at me over his shoulder with an impatient look and taking some powder out of his pocket.

"Go on, dimwit" hisses Malfoy.

I would've glared at him but I hurry to Blaise's side and follow him into the chimney.

Once the bricks stop moving around us and we're standing on a dark living room, I see him turn and face me, with that bored face he had at the Atrium, an eyebrow crooked and his arms crossed. His lips a thin angry line on his handsome face. I can't restrain myself anymore.

I kiss him.

He just stands there, paralyzed first. Then he struggles, but I put my arms around him since I know I'm stronger. I also swear to myself that if he keeps struggling, I'd turn around and go back to the Ministry, but he doesn't. He stops fighting me, though he's still stiff on my arms, his lips not moving under mine, his mouth closed to me, his back hard where my hands are pressing.

Then, I feel him softening. His shoulders lose their rigidity and the stiffness on his back disappears, leaving a warm body under my fingers. I feel his arms drop to his sides when my hands go up to cup his face and his lips moving slowly against mine. I smile into the soft kiss.

He seems to feel my smile since he pushes me lightly by the shoulders but I take one of his hands on my right and intertwine our fingers. He sighs with his eyes still closed, opening his mouth under my insisting one. I moan, moving the hand cupping his face to the back of his neck, pulling him tighter against me. His fingers on my hand tighten and his left arm curls around my waist. He moans.

We separate panting; my right hand still on his neck, his left on my waist, our hands entwined on my left side. He keeps his eyes closed, our foreheads resting on each other while I place butterfly kissed on his face. He whimpers on his throat, pressing his cheek against mine. His hand on my waist grabs my shirt and he hides his face on the crook of my neck. I whisper softly on his ear and kiss his neck, eliciting a moan that vibrates through my skin.

Blaise pulls away from me but doesn't let go of my hand. He looks at me from under his eyelashes, long and curled, making his eyes mysterious enough for me to get wrapped on them for an eternity. I want to kiss him again but he moves away, turning around and guiding me upstairs, pulling me from the hand he's still holding.

I feel him trembling when we get to a bedroom. His bedroom. It's dark, so I get my wand and light up the lamps on the bedside tables. Everything's a dark red colour. Burgundy, if I'm not mistaken. A long four-posted bed stands on the centre of the room, two small tables on its side, all made of dark mahogany. There's a desk and a dresser and another door, but I don't pay much attention to them after a quick scan. I'm focused on his shoulders, both set in front of me, trembling.

I hug him from behind and he relaxes against my chest. I go back to kissing his neck and he moans again, his scent intoxicating in a way not even Ginny had been. He turns around on my arms and kisses me fiercely, like I thought he ought to kiss. His arms are thrown over my shoulders and mine travel to his slim waist. I push him towards the bed, he chuckling softly when I return to his neck.

As soon as his calves touch the bed, he sits on it and raises his legs. His clothes are gone in a second while I stand there, watching more and more of his skin revealed to my lustful eyes. He looks at me wanton, half-laying on the mattress, the burgundy bedcover surrounding his figure.

I kneel over the mattress, getting rid of my robe in a swift move. He reclines as I get closer, my fingers sliding over his skin, provoking smalls sighs from his throat. I place my hand on his stomach and trace the lines of his muscles, going up till I get to his collar bone. He's looking at me with amusement.

"Like?" he whispers.

I answer with a smile before attacking his chest and collarbone, biting lightly on the crook of his neck and making him moan a little louder. His arms go to my shoulders but I grab his wrists and put them over his head. He bits his lower lip but I ask him not to.

"I like you better when you're loud," I whisper hotly on his ear and he moans again and bucks his groin against me. I feel his legs spread farther apart and allow my weight to rest over his body, the contact making us both gasp for some air. Immediately, I go back to his mouth.

Oh, I love to kiss him. He's good at it, maybe the best kisser I've had on my lamely short list of people I've ever kissed. But I can tell he is _very_ good. He knows what to do to make me press harder against his mouth and when to moan to make my hips buck against him when he needed it.

"Harry," he whines, offering me his neck and closing his eyes.

I let go of his wrists but he doesn't move them from over his head. I smile at that and trail down his body again, this time only his sides since I'm flat pressed against him. His waist tenses when I ran my nails through his skin and he chokes when my hand gets inside his underwear.

"Harry," he whispers, this time searching for my eyes.

I look at him with all the care I can muster and kiss him softly before grabbing his member and moving my hand over it. Blaise bites his lip again and grabs the pillow under his head, raising his hips, searching for my touch.

I keep whispering his name on the shell of his ear. I can't get enough of the little sounds he's making, love to hear my name being breathed out of his mouth like a mantra, his eyes tightly closed in concentration. For a moment though I'm worried I'm doing something wrong, he seems so controlled and barely moving, the only sign of his excitement being my name and the small gasps sometimes escaping his lips.

"Blaise," I say quietly. "Blaise, look at me."

He opens his beautiful hazel eyes and stares.

"Let go," I say softly.

Understanding downs on him only seconds later and he let a loud moan that vibrated on his chest and through my own, making my crotch twitch. The hand that's placed on his hip travels to his hair and grabs some of it. He has opened his legs even more, one of his arms searching for something on the table.

I stop, still panting, to let him get it. He presses a small tube on my hand and nods curtly when I'm about to ask him if he's sure. Blaise smiles, his eyes more brilliant than usual under the light of the small lamps. He asks me in a hushed whisper if I'd like him to lay face down.

"However you're more comfortable in," I answer, not entirely sure what should I say.

Blaise seems to realize I wasn't that much of an expert on this matter. He mutters something under his breath and I feel a rush of magic near the hand that had been touching him seconds ago. He pushes me gently off himself and I sit on my heels.

I watch in awe as he takes his underwear off and tosses it on the floor without hesitation. Then he turns and lays on the bed as long as he is, face resting on his forearms, his legs extended on my sides, his arse in front of me at the end of his arched back. I swallow at the sight.

He looks at me and gets up on one elbow when I don't move. "Is there a problem?" he asks with worry.

I shake my head but still don't move. My eyes glued to his body must have given me away, since he reaches down and takes the tube, chuckling merrily to himself, telling me I don't have to prepare him, he'd do it while I watch.

I get impossibly harder when I see his long fingers trail down his body and reach between his legs, disappearing inside his entrance. He moans, echoing my own groan at the view. It doesn't take him that long before three fingers are getting in and out of his body relatively easy, though for the groans he's letting out I know it still hurts a little. And I can tell he's being a little hasty.

"I'm ready," he murmurs and takes his fingers out, letting his weight fall on the bed again. I can only see one of his eyes, but he's frowning, his forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat.

I force my body to move and get my face near his neck. I kiss him there, my arms supporting me over his body. He relaxes and closes his eyes, a small smile gracing his partially hidden face.

"Blaise," I moan when I got myself on his entrance, a small gasp coming from him. I press harder against the tight ring and feel his body move. My hands move instinctively to his hips, keeping them in place, making it easier for me to get inside the hot tightness that was gripping me like a strong vice. I groan when I feel I was almost all the way in and, just then, I realize Blaise has his face hidden on the pillow. "Blaise?" I ask concerned.

He appears panting, some wrinkles creasing his forehead. "I'm fine," he breathes. "Go on."

I frown at his expression, but my own urge is almost impossible to subdue. I start to thrust against his tight body, taking him by the waist, lifting him up a little so I can get even deeper. The small sob that escapes his mouth makes me stop but he tells me to keep going. "This is how it's supposed to be," he pants and smiles at me, enough for me to keep moving.

My thrusts keep the same rhythm, which is almost unbearable to maintain anymore. I let my hands roam over his back and he moans under my fingers, still groaning every time I push against his body. Suddenly, he whimpers and sobs and his elbows give up. I stop from the surprise, but I know that I needed to find that spot again. Just then I thank the slow pace I'd been keeping, since it makes it easy to find it.

Blaise arches when I thrust against his prostate again and grips the sheets with white knuckles. His body tightens around me and I moan louder than before. My thrusts become deeper, harder, faster, and I'm not sure I'm not hurting him anymore, but his moans and whimpers and whines are filling my ears and going straight to my brain with a message that I think says I could go to the next level.

When he starts to contort over the mattress, I see one of his hands going down to relieve himself but I stop him. He groans or whimpers; now I'm not sure.

"Turn around," I whisper on his ear.

Blaise pants and gasps when I get out of him. My arms turn him over as if he weren't more than a mere doll. I spread his legs on my sides again, watching his arms curl over the pillows, his face and chest covered by a thin layer of sweat and his eyes glossy with lust. He raises his arms towards me and calls me into his embrace. I smirk lopsidedly and grab his slender legs, putting them on my shoulders, my cock finding his entrance as if it belonged there. When I penetrate him, his moan gets lost on my kiss, my hands getting lost on his long hair once again.

I love the feeling of his chest against mine, feeling it rise and fall with the same cadence. His face desperately searching for air as my lips once again go for his throat. I love his hands pressing on my back, on my legs, urging my hips to go faster, deeper inside him. His moans are louder; his whimpers are almost howls that make my member twitch every time he contracts himself around me. I kiss him again, moving my hand on him, and feel a shudder run through his body before he comes with a small sob, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, his back arching on top of the mattress.

Blaise's body is deliciously trapping me in tightness and heat and I thrust as hard and fast and deep as I can, letting myself go with the building climax I can feel near and near now. Blaise lays under me, glowing with post-sex satisfaction while I still push against his body. He twists languidly and wanton on the lax embrace, giving me lascivious tired smiles. I come when he kisses me and I love the sensation of filling him, love the way the muscles on his stomach contract and his throat makes a small sound of shock as I capture his lips and continue kissing him as I ride my orgasm.

Both sated, our bodies still connected, me hugging him and kissing him and caressing his face and neck. It's bliss. He looks content; his face has a healthy blush and a small smile on.

"Like?" he asks quietly with a chuckle.

I smirk and nod. Then, I give him a brief kiss and get off of him, chuckling at the disgusted look he gives between his legs. I kneel on the bed, but he's still laying on it so I get a better view of my semen leaking out of his arse. He blushes when he realizes what I'm watching and tries to get up, but I fell on his side and hug him from the back to stop him.

"Are you escaping?" I ask.

"No," he answers with, and I guess since I can't see his face, a smirk. "I was going to get _clean._"

"I quite like you the way you are," I murmur on his neck, tightening my embrace. That proves to be a not so smart move since my crotch gets too close to his body and seems to be coming to life again. Blaise feel it too.

"Mr. Potter, haven't you had enough?" he scolds me on a mocking way and sneaks out of my embrace. I watch him stand up and support myself on an elbow, grinning. I thought he'd look for some towels, but he only gets his wand and mutters a Cleaning Charm.

"That should be enough for the night," he says, getting into the bed and urging me to do the same. "I don't want to give you time to flee," he adds jokingly at the end.

I smirk and let Blaise rest his head on my chest. One of my hands is distractingly caressing his slim left hip while the other one strokes his silky hair. I smile satisfied and let myself sink in the pillows. Then it hits me. I've had sex with Blaise –make up sex in some way- and we're cuddling with after-sex bliss. And, which is actually the most shocking of it all, I'm _happy_. Only caressing his hair makes my heart flutter as if I had him spread over the bed for my taking. I'm thinking that I'd die anytime if I can have this _every_ day.

_I'm in love_, I realize. And a feeling of dread and joy makes my stomach twist and panic.

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Summary**: Harry is anxious when Blaise is nowhere to be seen. Has a small exchange of words with Draco and makes Blaise invite him over. Things develop.

**Sunday****, January 18****th****, 2009**

**----------------------------------------------------**


	6. Day 6, Saturday: Draco

**----------------------------------------------------**

**NOTE: I'm a Spanish speaker, so any grammatical/coherency mistake pointed out will be gladly received. If you want to be my beta, I'll be glad.**

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (6/7)

**Author**: randomicicle

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue)

**Length:** 3,274 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By randomicicle_

**  
Day Six, Saturday: Draco's care**

It was almost 10 in the morning, so I knew almost nobody should be at the Ministry. Being Saturday, there were very few people wandering around the corridors, most of them like me, just dropping by to get some work to take home. I sighed as I put the files inside my briefcase, and then shrunk it till it fit on my pocket.

Yesterday's happening at the end of the day had left me a little worried. What if my meddling had ruined things for Blaise in the end and he didn't want to talk to me anytime soon. I had a bad feeling at the pit of my stomach as soon as Potter disappeared after Blaise on the chimney and I'd had to take a potion to help me sleep without dreaming.

As if on cue with my thoughts, an owl came flying through my door. I recognized it as soon as it landed in front of me, since I've seen it countless times before. Taking the message with my right hand, I petted the animal distractedly while I read it. It was short and there was something wrong with the writing, but I didn't put much thought in it. Instead, I turned and rushed to the elevator with long fast strides. If Blaise was calling me, then it couldn't have gone so well. And yet, I felt a weight lifted from my chest as soon as I realized it was from him, since it meant he wasn't mad at _me_.

I was rounding the Fountain and getting near the chimneys when a figure appeared on my right and seemed to hide from my presence. "Potter?" I asked, confusion on my face. He only nodded my way, but I stopped him, "What're you doing here?"

He seemed to sigh and struggle to find an answer. "Just… had to get some documents"

Potter seemed to shrink under my narrowed stare and, for once, he really seemed ashamed. Or extremely tired. So I got close to him. He closed his eyes briefly and sighed heavily.

"Look," he said with exasperation. "I only want to go get my things and get back home, okay?"

I stared at him but nodded. He seemed relieved I'd let him go without any further interrogation, but the dreadful feeling I had came back full force and I hurried to a chimney on the other side. One that could get me as fast as it could to Blaise's lot.

The elegant living room greeted me, shining dully under the morning light. Weird thing though, the heavy curtains were open but the lighter ones under them weren't. So the morning light couldn't really get through and the room didn't look as homey as it should have. I walked with quiet steps, as if I was a burglar getting into a stranger's house. Soon I found myself at the kitchen, standing on the doorframe. In front of me, on the small wooden table attached to the opposite wall, was Blaise, sipping quietly from a cup of coffee, a cigarette on his right hand.

"Thought you'd give up those things" I said loud enough for him to hear me, but he didn't even move to acknowledge my presence. I frowned and advanced to the table. When I was a couple of feet away, he turned to me and his eyes looked at me with incredible sadness.

"I thought so too"

Taking a seat in front of him, I stared with worried eyes. He went back to sipping his coffee, looking at me over the rim of the cup. Now his hazel eyes were blurry, opaque, watching me without interest. "See you got my letter" he mumbled, "I'm sorry I made you come, I don't know why I did it".

I made a dismissive gesture and asked, "What happened?"

Blaise sighed and lowered his head. His frowning expression made me realize I was right at feeling uneasy; something not so nice must have happened yesterday night. Blaise huffed under his breath and got up, going to the pot over the stove.

"Potter and I… when he came here, he kissed me" he said, emotionless, as he poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me. His tone was calm, slow, but his eyes didn't meet mine as much as I looked for them. "I gave in after a while" he accepted and there seemed to be some regret on his words now.

Blaise paused and went near the sink. The window behind him was framing his figure and, instead of making him look prettier or shiny, he looked darker and gloomy, as if his body was caging all that light and sucking it in to some unknown black hole.

"I took him to my _room_"

I sighed quietly and crossed my arms over my chest. I had a vague idea how things had gone after that, but didn't have the heart to stop him. He wasn't really talking to me, he was telling all this to himself. As if that was the only way he'd believe it. He looked so small and lost, his eyes distant, looking at something on the wall in front of us that I couldn't see.

Then, his expression turned painful and he closed his eyes, pressing both of his hands against his face. The cup of coffee lay forgotten on the edge of the sink, looking dangerously close to falling. He seemed oblivious and I couldn't care either. The furious blush crawling up his neck was alarming me and the whiteness of his knuckles worried me. I heard a raged growl and he was looking at me now, eyes red and blurry.

"I let him take me, Draco, _I _let him." he said, marking each word with special emphasis, his voice growing till it ended on a high pitch. "And he ran away!" he yelled, throwing his arms to the air, "I woke up and he wasn't here… he _fucked_ me and LEFT!"

His outburst shocked me but my body move instinctively to hold him on my arms. Those last words had been said with so much pain, his face crumbling into a muted cry of indignation and regret and shame and despair. "He used me" he was mumbling over my shoulder, "he fucked me and left… _used_ me and left…"

I wasn't sure what to say, so I just let myself fall with him to the floor and held him there, while he kept mumbling, face hidden on my shoulder, arms lifeless on his sides.

"It's alright" I whispered over his hair, but knew it wasn't really alright. I knew Blaise was deeply hurt by this coward rejection. I hated Potter more than ever, especially because I'd helped him get what he was looking for, believing he wouldn't leave after taking it.

"And he told me" murmured Blaise, apparently more calm now, in spite of the hollow tone he used. "I _knew_ he only wanted to get laid. But I thought… I…"

An uncomfortable silence fell on us as we sat there on the cold floor, Blaise on my arms, my fingers caressing his hair as my chin rested on it. He was quiet now, silent, barely breathing. I could tell his eyes were once again unfocused, red with ire and sadness, but dull and dead, distant. He didn't move as I pulled him up, but walked as I led him upstairs, an arm securely on his waist. Once we reached his room, I took a peek inside and saw the undone bed, the tangled sheets. I saw his clothes on the floor, as if they had been tossed there without care.

"Is it…?"

He sneaked out of my hold and got inside his bedroom. A hurt look glazed over his eyes again before he was his calm self again. "Yes" he answered, "its fine, Draco. I'm alright now"

I nodded and walked slowly towards him as Blaise sat on the mattress, his eyes glued to the floor, but not really seeing anything. "Do you need anything?" I asked, still worried he might get into a fit again. In a way, I would've preferred Blaise had started to cry and curse and throw things, but this calm depression was making me more uneasy than I should've been.

He shook his head.

"I'll make you a potion, so you can rest for a while"

He smiled sadly, the corners of his mouth barely rising. I touched his shoulder and squeezed it gently, then turned around and headed to the door. I was already going through the ingredients on my head when he called my name, a vague whisper that I could hear only because of the deadly silence on the room. I turned to him, eyes sincerely worried, boring into his, which still had that unfocused stare of some minutes ago.

"I…" he started. Then chuckled sadly and hung his head, saying with the bitterest voice I've ever heard him speak in, "I'm in love with Harry Potter"

* * *

Blaise was asleep now. He had taken the potion without a fuss and had taken my hand before drifting into dreamless rest. I watched him with pity and regret, for I had somehow fuelled their encounter. I didn't know it was going to end up like this, less Blaise falling for the bloody Gryffindor and said idiot fleeing the crime scene. I was so mad at myself for not seeing this possible outcome that I had to breath deeply for a couple of minutes to calm myself down.

And Potter looked so alright at the Ministry. At least, in comparison. Hell, I've never seen Blaise had this kind of reaction whenever an affair had ended. In fact, he was the one usually ending any commitment that seemed to drag on for too long, except ours, which was a stupid mistake on my part. Not even with me had I seen him this broken, which made me a little mad somewhere inside, but tried to focus on other matters.

What had actually made me stay though was Blaise's broken voice when confessing his love. He sounded so angry at himself, so desolated. Now, sleeping, he looked so calm I wished he'd stay like that, but was sure it was going to take a while before he'd be able to talk about this without feeling a lump on his throat. Sodding Potter, didn't he like him back? He was the one stalking him at work, not the other way around. Was he really only looking for a shag? I couldn't confirm nor deny that possibility, since I've never heard or cared about Potter's personal affairs, but I took him for the proper type.

Blaise stirred on his sleep and his mouth opened a bit, a small sigh leaving his lips. I swallowed and caressed his forehead, his face searching for the warm of my hand when I abandoned it. I smiled lightly and stood up, deciding he'd wake up anytime soon and that he'd probably be hungry. As I was going down the stairs, my stomach growled, so I decided to put together something for the both of us. Since I wasn't as good at cooking as he was, I knew he'd tease me about whatever I'd make, but even that'll make me happy right now.

I got inside his bedroom carrying a tray with a couple of plates, hurrying to the dresser opposite to the table so I could put the tray over it. When I turned to the bed, Blaise was watching me with amusement on his eyes, the light once again making the hazel as bright as it usually was. I grinned in spite of myself and practically jumped on the bed, sitting next to his legs. He chuckled softly and shook his head, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to put some order in it.

"Leave it" I almost whispered, and he looked at me, his eyes once again twinkling with the light getting into the room.

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, till he leaned forward and took my hand on his right. "Thank you" he whispered, "I'm sorry you had to see…"

I shook my head chuckling, gripping his hand on mine with more force than he had used. "No problem, that's what friends are for"

He nodded and let his back fell against the headboard, closing his eyes briefly. I inhaled relieved, reclining myself on the bed, supporting my body on my right elbow.

"Are you feeling better" I asked, hoping he'd open his eyes and look at me. "If you plan to have another fit, tell me first so I get into the right set of mind"

He chuckled and opened his eyes, lowering his head so much he was looking me from under his lashes now. "Don't worry; it'll be another couple of decades before you see me lose it like that again"

I nodded, more at ease now. He was still sad, I could tell, and angry. But I guessed his proud character was what was keeping the hysteria at bay for now. His fit had lasted almost 15 minutes, but I had no idea how long had he been controlling it, sipping his mug of cold coffee on the kitchen, waiting for me to hear his confession. I observed his distant stare and realized he was slipping away again, his brow slowly transforming into a frown, a small wrinkle on his nose.

"Blaise" I called and he, surprisingly, turned to me instantly, "do you remember when we dated?"

He seemed surprise at my choice of conversation, but nodded nonetheless. Then, a half-smile spread on his face and he lowered his eyes, chuckling. "I remember professor Vector walking in on us"

A smirk appeared on my face, remembering the teacher's face and his severe reprimand. She'd told us she'd never seen such an improper behaviour and that she wouldn't tolerate students as young as us having inappropriate intercourse at school. "Oh, she was _furious_"

"Well, if I were her, I would've suspended us" said Blaise, with some scold on his eyes, but still smiling. I laughed and he continued, "I mean, we didn't even care if the door was open or not, we just went at it!"

I was delighted at Blaise's delicate blush at the memories and urged him to keep talking with small comments and remarks I knew he'd contradict or elaborate. His spirit seemed to be coming back, now that he was distracted from the previous disaster. I rather have a scolding Blaise than a moping one.

"But we loved it" he declared, staring at me with soft eyes. "We always looked for all the places where we could get caught and _loved_ it. The adrenaline rush, the hurried kisses"

Now that he was talking about it, I wasn't so sure if that subject was such a good idea. His vulnerable expression made my heart ache a little, especially because I also felt a pang of nostalgia at those years. Remembering a time that wouldn't repeat itself and an opportunity that wouldn't ever come back, made me feel an emptiness I didn't know I still felt. I thought Astoria had filled it, but apparently I was wrong. I wasn't that connected to her as I had been with Blaise and, even if I knew a couple of years could bind us together, right now, the man in front of me was the person whom I'd held closest to my heart ever.

"I remember" he continued, breaking out stare, "you used to love those cupcakes I used to bring after Christmas. I never told you this, but I made them. Mother and I would get into the kitchen and start baking, and I'd always put some aside for you, since she made them for Grandpa. It was, well, it _is_ an embarrassing thing to tell"

Even though Blaise had chuckled and told me all that with a light tone, I could tell he was really embarrassed by this little confession of something he had done years ago. And I, well, I felt touched. I knew Blaise loved cooking, something I couldn't understand at all, but I never even suspected he had made those. I think I'd always supposed he bought them when he went to visit his grandparents.

He seemed to sense my surprise, since he rolled his eyes and chuckled, saying it was silly to reveal that now. "Not at all" I answered, and silence fell upon us again. Yet, this silence wasn't tense, like the one that surrounded us in the kitchen after Blaise collapsed. This time, it was a knowing silence, where Blaise tried to avoid my eyes for a few moments before he gave up and looked at me straight into my soul.

I wasn't sure what made me do it. Maybe the memories we'd stirred made us long for our old relationship. Maybe it was the sunset getting through the window, illuminating his figure with a golden light that made his hair shine and his eyes glitter. Maybe it was the sadness and need of validation on his eyes, or the way he was gripping the blankets till his knuckles went white. Or maybe I'd just wanted to do it since I realized I wasn't who Blaise was longing for anymore.

Whatever it had been, I reincorporated and leaned forward, kissing him chastely, feeling his lips responding to my kiss at once, as if we both had been waiting for it. The kiss was soft, almost childish, his mouth barely opening. My hands didn't move and neither did his.

When we separated, I lingered close to his face. He was breathing more heavily than he had been and I noticed I was too. We then opened our eyes and looked at each other, smiling with affection and understanding.

I leaned back again and he got further under the covers, laying on the bed now instead of sitting.

"Thanks, Draco" he murmured, "really".

I graced his forehead with my fingers and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. "I think its time for you to go" he mumbled, smiling at me with sleepy eyes. "I shouldn't be but I'm tired again. Sorry about the food"

I smiled, especially because I'd forgotten about the food too, and whispered a goodbye. As soon as he closed his eyes, I caressed his cheek once more and left, closing the door without a noise and practically running to the chimney. My head was full with thoughts, but one of them was loud and clear: I loved Blaise, but I wasn't _in love_ with him anymore. And it both scared and excited me, since I'd never tried being in love with anybody else. Maybe my heart had taken care of that for me and was already placed on someone else. And I didn't have to guess to know who that person was. Maybe, it was time for both of us to let go, and I was happy to know I was over Blaise as he was over me.

Home had never felt so good, I thought as I reached the stairs. Before I could climb up to my room, two soft knocks on the door made me turn around and open the main door. On the other side, a gorgeous witch was standing on a green travel robe, smart smile and wild eyes looking at me with lust and love.

I've never been so happy to see Astoria standing on my porch.

TBC

**----------------------------------------------------**

Feedback will be appreciated

**Chapter Summary**: Draco bumps into Harry at the Ministry after receiving a letter from Blaise. He goes to the latter's house and stays there to pick up the pieces.

**Monday****, January 19****th****, 2009**

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	7. Day 7, Sunday: Blaise's joy

**----------------------------------------------------**

**NOTE: I'm a Spanish speaker, so any grammatical/coherency mistake pointed out will be gladly received. If you want to be my beta, I'll be glad.**

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Title**: Seven Days (7/7)

**Author**: randomicicle

**Pairing**: HarryBlaise, DracoBlaise implied

**Rating**: T

**Warnings:** M/M. AU (Canon 'til the Epilogue)

**Length:** 4,105 words.

**Time Period:** Post-Hogwarts

**Summary**: Harry likes Blaise. Blaise likes Harry. Then, why does everything seem so complicated?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any character.

**---------------------------------------------------- **

**Seven Days**

_By randomicicle_

**  
Day Seven, Sunday: Blaise's joy**

My head was killing me, even though I'd already taken a couple of potions to diminish the burning pain that seemed to come from the centre of it. I was tempted to call Draco to cancel tonight's affair, but I couldn't after having him babysitting me while I was going through my shameful breakdown. I was so moved by it that I decided to endure the party I wasn't so keen to have. I was thankful though Draco had opted for not making it a surprise and told me in the end, that way I wouldn't make an appearance looking as miserable as I felt.

The clock over the dresser told me its time to go already and I was still pacing around with a towel around my waist. My hair was still damp but I couldn't care less. The old ladies I was going to see today weren't a public I wanted to impress and it was _my_ birthday, so I could look as ragged as I wanted. The navy polo I chose looked decent enough with the pants I saw as soon as I opened the closet, so I put them on in a hurry and rushed down the stairs. Even in my birthday, getting late was unacceptable.

One last look into the mirror over the chimney and I was getting the powder from my pocket. I knew I ought to feel the usual dread I always felt when having dinner with my grandparents' cousins, but I couldn't. If it weren't for this lunch, my mind would go back to Harry and I didn't feel as if I could handle that yet.

"Blaise, dear!" called a high-pitched voice to my right and I saw a group of three old ladies smiling and advancing towards me, all of them planting sonorous kisses on both cheeks. "Look at you, such a handsome boy"

I smiled politely, thinking to myself I was old enough to at least being considered a young man, but they'd never see me any older than a boy. "Thank you, Aunt Marie. You always making me blush"

Aunt Marie laughed and pushed lightly on my shoulder, a proud blush expanding on her face when the other two looked envious of the charming smile I sent her. I asked where was my Mother and they immediately started to walk towards the terrace, commenting on what an amazing job my mom had gone through with the food, the mantels, the garden. I kept smiling, wishing I could just run to Mother. These three ladies always scared me. They were all sisters, cousins of my Grandmother, and they tended to be overly touchy when competing for one's attention.

"Darling" I heard my Mother say and immediately walked faster following her voice, "Blaise, my child"

I would've rolled my eyes any other time, but I saw her so happy in the middle of glorious compliments that I only hugged her as a good son would do and smiled at the relatives surrounding her. They all started to congratulate me for my birthday, at which I responded with a polite smile and nod, my mother proudly standing next to me, one of my arms still on her waist.

I looked at her briefly when the greeting ended and she talked to me on her natural voice, that soft lulling chain of words she make sentences out of. "Blaise, darling, how have you been? You look pale, are you sleeping well? Do you need a house elf?"

I chuckled and calmed her worries. She still looked suspicious though and I knew she'd keep insisting I took one of the house elves of the mansion. "We have more than we use here" she said, "You shouldn't tire yourself with household chores. It's bad for you, look at your hands… they used to be so soft"

I pulled my hands out of hers and looked at her serious now, "Mother, please. Can we skip the fight just for today?"

"I'm only saying…"

"I know. I love you too"

She smiled resigned and pinched my cheek, calling everyone's attention and asking them to go to the dining room. Once there, we all sat; me next to my Mother at the head of the table. Since she wasn't married at the moment, she was the sole owner of the manor, hence sitting gloriously beautiful on a chair that looked more like a throne.

"Blaise" I heard one of the old ladies say after the food had arrived, "how come a handsome man like you doesn't have a nice young lady yet?"

I would've been happy that she'd acknowledged my being a man and not a boy if she weren't nagging at my personal affairs. Unfortunately, the entire table turned to me with curiosity and I finally could see who was there. There weren't many people, only the three aunts, my grandparents, my Mother, Kevin –the cousin who worked at the Ministry-, his father and his brother with his wife. I couldn't remember his name, though I think I've seen that woman somewhere else.

My Mother took my hand and looked at me a little nervous, "Blaise had some girlfriends in the past, Rose. Didn't you darling?"

"Yes, of course" I answered mechanically and could see Kevin's knowing smile from the corner of my eye. "But I haven't found the right person yet" I added a little dramatically.

I closed my mouth and the answer seemed to be enough for some. We continued eating, Mother trying to catch my eye while everyone talked about work and family. I felt as if I was the only one without experience to pour into the conversation and I could see Mother's longing when Kevin's brother revealed his wife was pregnant. My three aunts let out some squeals of delight that made me almost choke on my food.

I started to feel depressed again, especially after Mother gave me a sad knowing smile. She was, in a way, accepting she'd never have grandchildren and letting me know she was fine with it, but it hurt me to see her sad eyes trying to seem alright. And then I remembered the reason she wouldn't be a grandmother. How well that worked! Me opening my legs to a man who wouldn't even send an owl after fucking me through the bed? Such a good son she had. A good _idiot_ of a son.

"Dear, are you okay?" Mother asked. I guess my gloom line of thinking must have reflected on my face, since she seemed concerned.

Aunt Marie seemed concerned too. "Oh, Blaise, you have the expression of a heart broken girl. You're very nice and still young, you're time will come, boy"

I guessed Aunt Marie thought I was depressed because I didn't have a wife and a soon-to-be kid, but that wasn't the reason. At least, it wasn't till she mentioned it, since I felt worse now. I smiled at both of them and only Mother seemed to notice I was really feeling awful. I was trying to make up my mind between being mad or just sad at Aunt Marie for reminding me of my situation, that I _did_ had my heart broken.

"What is it?" whispered Mother in a conspiratory tone, taking me out of my musings. When I shook my head, she insists, "Tell me"

"Later" I mouthed because I saw Aunt Fran leaning towards us to try to catch our conversation. She must've been trying to get a hand up over Aunt Marie on the family gossip.

I sighed at my family antiques and cursed for once there were almost no relatives my age. Most of them were generations old and, other than Kevin, they were either married or widowed, which made us the outcasts. I stole a glance at him and he appeared to be drowning his uneasiness on wine. When our eyes met I smiled at him, pitying him when Aunt Rose leaned over his ear and started talking animatedly about his unborn nephew or niece.

The annoying desire to flee and hide on my room was growing on my stomach and I stood up as soon as the elves picked the empty dished. Everyone turned to me at once.

"I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little queasy today" Mother's smile faded, so I caressed her head. "I promise I'll come during the week" I told her and kissed her cheek. Then, to the rest of the complaining table, I gave my best smile and thanked them for coming.

On my way out, I kissed my Grandmother's cheek and promised I'll go visit some weekend, since I haven't been at Tuscany for almost three years now. Kevin nodded in my direction and I left towards the chimney. I could hear Aunt Marie saying something about being convinced I had a girl hidden somewhere and was probably going to her now. I laughed quietly as I entered the green flames. Having a girl, right, if only _she_ knew.

* * *

The short nap I'd taken had left me sticky and sweaty, and my hair was a horrible mess over my head. I glanced at the clock and decided against going out to buy something to wear tonight. There was neither the time nor the right mood to go shopping. So I got inside the walking closet and started throwing things over the bed. Even with my gloomy mood, I wanted to look good tonight. I wanted to think that if Harry could see me, he'd regret leaving me to have the worst day and a half of my life, without even a letter of apology.

I was acting like a girl and I knew it. But I didn't want to pretend it didn't sting because, well, it did. Other than Draco, no one had ever left me. And I wasn't sure if what I felt for Draco was as strong as what I felt for Harry. As much as I'd thought Draco was the love of my life, I always knew our thing was temporary for him so, when he broke up with me, it hurt but I was prepared for it. I didn't expect Harry to be like that. We didn't even start dating before he abandoned me!

I growled at my stupidity and threw some robes to the floor, not caring if they got all wrinkly and dusty. With long strides I got to my bed and sorted through the clothes. All of them seemed the same, dark coloured robes, slim cut, tighter around the waist of hips, material silky enough to make them have that wave I'd always loved on my teacher's robes. I sighed and decided to wear a burgundy robe, wavy enough, tighter were it needed to be but mostly hanging off my body with a smooth movement.

Standing in front of the mirror, it seemed to approve of my choice of clothing and sent me to retrieve a hairbrush. After getting my hair in order, I put on my shoes, got my things and left.

On the other side of the chimney I wasn't even out of the flames when a pair of warm arms hugged me. All the yelling and cheering didn't let me understand what he said in my ear, but going for Draco's face I could tell it was something along the lines of 'Happy Birthday'. Then, those arms left me and I saw his face retreat and another pair of arms hugging me, this time female arms, a skin that smelled like Pansy's. Soon, I was lost in the greetings, the people and the music. The toast left an empty glass of wine on my hand that was soon refilled and my other hand was pulled by someone, dragging me to the dance floor.

The laughter and smiles and old faces made me almost happy. My mind got dizzy and distracted and I actually started to enjoy my birthday.

* * *

"Are you having a good time?" asked Draco over the music.

I nodded as he took the glass from my hand and grinned. I pouted but didn't mind as long as the music kept going and my mind stayed busy with something. Draco had introduced me to Astoria and I realized that, even though they've been engaged for almost half a year now, I've never met her before. And I liked her, as I'd let Draco know. He had smiled a weird smile, but she was so charming and gorgeous that I was soon chatting animatedly with her before she pulled us both, Draco and I, to the dance floor.

So, here we were, Astoria dancing between us, her neat ponytail loosening on top of her head. Draco watched her dazzled before looking at me, softening his eyes and caressing me lightly when she let us got closer. I didn't know if she knew about our past relationship, but if she did, she didn't care. She'd told me she knew we were good friends and she didn't want her marrying Draco to change that. "Nothing should change", she said and I smiled. Such a smart girl for being a couple of years younger than us.

A shiver ran down my spine when I felt a couple of fingers poking my shoulder and a soft murmur running through the people around me. I turned around in that direction, only to find myself face to face to none other than Harry Potter. I was shocked for a moment before every feeling of the past two days came crashing down on me, making me turn angry at Draco.

"He didn't invite me, Blaise" said Harry, touching my shoulder. I jerked away and looked at him.

"It's _Zabini_, Potter"

He sighed deeply and seemed to look at Draco for backup when I felt the blond getting closer to my back.

"Can we talk?" asked Harry and I raised an eyebrow, remembering the last time he asked me to talk.

"We _talked_ on Friday and got us nowhere. So no, I don't think so. You're ruining my party" I declared with a cold voice, crossing my arms and frowning at him. I realized I crossed my arms whenever I was mad and wondered if it was to stop myself from strangling him.

He seemed to remember Friday night and a flash of hurt crossed his eyes. I wasn't entirely sure since his messy black hair obscured his face a little. And the low lights weren't helping. I thanked that the people around us had stopped peaking.

"Please" he muttered, but I couldn't hear him. Blood was pumping on my ears and I was going to tell him to fuck off when Draco touched my arm gently and whispered something on my ear. Surprised, I turned to him and found Astoria smiling slyly behind him, urging me to go with her raised eyebrows. So it was _her_ who'd invited the Gryffindor. From Draco's apologetic smile, I could guess she knew the story and decided to act on the facts Draco gave her. Even when I narrowed my eyes at them both, I felt a little grateful.

Back to Harry, I only looked at him and walked towards the balcony. It was big enough so that nobody would listen to our conversation even if it turned into a fight. Plus, I could push him out the edge if he got too annoying.

"Blaise" he called when we reached the edge. I put my hands over the stone banister to keep them from crossing over my chest. I'd rather not look at him even though he was standing so close I felt my personal space being invaded.

"I'm an idiot" he said and I huffed with a bitter smile. Of course you are, I thought, a _major_ idiot. But I said nothing. "I'm sorry for listening to the gossip that was going around at the office, I should have known better than that" he murmured and I rolled my eyes.

"Is this what this is about?" I asked him while turning, staring at him with the coldest eyes I could, "Do you think I'm still mad about _that_? Think again"

He flinched at my voice but I didn't feel any sympathy. I've felt like trash the last couple of days and he seemed to be doing incredibly well, even showed up here to tell me he's an _idiot_. As if I didn't know that already. The buzzing on my ears was growing and I found myself unable to look at his face, feeling rage taking over my limbs.

"I know…" Harry started but stopped. That seemed to be a habit of his. "I know you were mad I left yesterday" at my rolling of eyes, he touched my arm but I jerked away once again, glaring at him. He frowned sad. "I'm sorry about that too. I like you, you're such a nice person and I'd like to be your friend"

I couldn't believe it. He wants to be my _friend_. I felt my anger dissipate as my spirits, so full of energy fuelled by ire before, were replaced by a hollow emptiness. I felt incredibly sad and had to support myself on the banister once again, this time a pain cutting through my chest so sharp that he must have noticed. At once, his expression changed to one of worry and he rushed through the words.

"No, no! I didn't mean… I…" and he touched me. I closed my eyes as he cupped my face, despair closing around my throat. I should be furious, insanely mad, but I wasn't. I only felt desolation. Only felt his soft words spoken directly over my lips, his closeness somehow soothing instead of alarming. "I loved what we did" he added and I opened my eyes. He frowned.

"But yesterday morning, when I woke up and saw you there, sleeping next to me… the night before, even after falling asleep, I was scared. When we woke up, I panicked" he confessed. I couldn't find the strength to be angry again yet, so I just stood there, his hand soothing on my cheek, his face near mine, my eyes cold boring into his lively ones. "I fled because I wasn't sure if it was right… I didn't want to handle it"

"So you left" I whispered, finding that my voice didn't sound like me, so detached that it scared me.

Harry seemed to feel the same, since he made a painful grimace. I knew my stare was piercing through his skull and he had to lower his eyes. I stood there even when his hand left my face. I felt all my energy back at once, filling my blood with a mixture of ire and hope. Because I wanted to believe him.

"I want to be more than your friend, Blaise"

I knew I should be more careful than this, but the small amount of anger I still had evaporated. A smile threatened to lighten my face, but I fought against it. I dug inside my head, trying to come up with excuses, to tell him I was still mad at his behaviour, at how horrible he'd made me feel. At the mess he'd made of my head. But it'll be all a lie, since I wasn't feeling ashamed or mad at the moment. I didn't mind. The past didn't matter to me anymore, and yet my pride didn't let me lean and kiss him as my whole self was screaming for me to do.

"I need someone stable, Potter" I muttered, convincing myself as I uttered the words. "A reliable person. I can't have you like me one day and leaving me the other, it won't work"

Harry smiled. "You won't find someone as reliable as me" he said, but I found that hard to believe. "Go ask my friends, I'm as loyal as a Gryffindor could be. I'll support you even in your most wicked ideas and help you through the roughest times. I just… you're the only one that makes me lose my balance"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. It was a long lively laughter, and Harry seemed happy with it. I looked at him over my chuckles and shook my head, feeling him getting closer. With a hand to his chest, I stopped him and stared at his green eyes, as serious as I could be after such a cheeky phrase.

"First, you improve your flirting skills"

This time, Harry was the one laughing. I smiled at the sound, feeling stupid by accepting things so easily, no further conditions, no further explanations. And I told a part of myself, I didn't want them. This made me happy now, being with him on the balcony, laughing as the chilly breeze danced over our robes. I liked the way he was looking at me, with soft eyes and care. The way he used to look at me at work, before I dragged him to my bed.

Harry leaned, but I avoided his lips. "Second" I said, serious, "you either like me or not. I won't tolerate another one of your bipolar episodes".

He nodded solemnly and I let a smile spread slowly on my face. "Third", I started, but his mouth was over mine now, and I was too slow to stop him. As it was, I don't want to.

"You tell me the rules later" he said in a hushed tone before going back to the kiss, which I appreciated more than giving out rules of behaviour. He kissed with desperation, as if he'd been waiting for it for years. And I know I'm as eager as him, I've been thinking about kissing him as much as I was cursing his name. We stopped to gasp for air and he looked at me with a smug smile. Just then, I noticed he had me on a possessive hug, his hands securely trapping my waist near his body.

"Potter" I started once I'd caught my breath, but he interrupted again.

"Do you want to go out with me? On a proper date?" he asked, blushing fiercely but looking firmly at me, his green eyes darker than usual. I raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly at his odd direct way of asking me out. Maybe not that odd, but the first time someone had ever asked me to go out in this fashion.

"I'll think about it" was my answer, but his smugness returned since he knew I was going to go out with him. Hell, _I_ knew I was going to, but I'd rather let him have at least 1% of doubt.

A couple of seconds passed when we just stayed there, close but not pressed against each other. We were only touching were his hands pressed over my back, the warm fingers soothing me. Then, he leaned over but I met him halfway, kissing him as if my life depended on it. I wished with all my heart he wasn't playing again, that he really meant everything he said. I could live with what I had right now, a make up kiss on the chilly night, but I knew I wouldn't be happy with that for too long. I was seriously in love with the Gryffindor and wanted to be reciprocated. But those were worries I pushed to the back of my head as his lips moved against mine and his hands pressed my body against his. I was going to make him fall for me.

"Ehm, Blaise?"

We flinched and got away as if an electric shock had pushed us apart. I looked to my right, feeling somehow guilty under Theo's stare. He was grinning, a big wolf grin that I could barely see due to the light darkening his features. Some steps behind him, I could see Draco's smiling face turning away from us. I smiled.

"Keep your private party for later. The guests are waiting for you, Millicent and his husband just arrived"

I nodded and he went back in. Harry looked at me with resignation, but he still had that small smile that echoed my own. With a happy sigh, I advanced towards the salon, Harry by my side, glancing at me with that playful smile still on his handsome face. Then, I jumped in shock and surprise. His fingers had searched for my right hand and intertwined our fingers. When I turned to him, he was looking to the front, a smug satisfied smile on his face.

I grinned as we got inside the crowd.

**End**

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Feedback will be appreciated

**Chapter Summary**: Blaise has a family lunch for his birthday and ends up fleeing from it. Later, at Draco's party for him, he finally gets his happy ending.

**Tuesday****, January 20****th****, 2009**

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